


The Art of Being Happy

by Torpor



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Redemption, Romantic Tension, Second Chances, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 128,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torpor/pseuds/Torpor
Summary: As he awaits his death in the Tower of Guidance, Zelgius is offered a second chance at life by a mysterious stranger. He is summoned to the kingdom of Askr to assist in the war against Múspell. He meets the summoner Evelyn and begins to wonder if there is a chance at redemption and love after all.





	1. A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> ...It's not my fault, okay? It's been years and this man still gets to me. With his recent release in Fire Emblem Heroes, my primordial thirst for this man was reawakened and there's just nothing out there that's going to sate it, so I guess I have to do it. Don't lie, I know there's plenty of you out there that feel the same. So this is for us thirsty Zelgius fuckers out there. 
> 
> Depending on how this develops, the rating may go up and the tags may update.

The stones under his hands were his only tether to the world as he felt himself growing colder, his life slipping away. It felt wrong, as though he were suspended in time; everything moved like molasses on a winter’s morning. His eyes were too heavy to open and everything sounded far away to his ears, but the rough texture against his palms was just enough to let him hold on; though to what, he couldn't say. It wouldn’t be long now. He would finally be at rest, and he would never have to raise his sword again. He’d done everything that he was meant to do and served his master to the bitter end. That was all he needed.

That was what he wanted to say, at least. Deep down, in a far flung corner of his mind, was the knowledge that he wasn’t ready to go. He wasn’t afraid, not really; but he found himself wishing things had been different. He’d spent many years being certain of his place in the world. He knew who and what he was, and what it meant. Where he sat now was where he was always meant to end up, that was a certainty. If there was a hell, he was destined to go, and he would suffer for his sins; that was also a certainty. It was what he’d earned and all he could deserve.

He’d reeked of death even before he’d met his end. He’d sown corpses as easily as a farmer sowed corn, and the deaths he’d doled out tainted the very fabric of his being. He could never be forgiven or redeemed, he was well and truly broken. He was every bit the monster his parents had seen in him as a child, and it was too late to change anything, no matter how he may wish to the contrary.

_‘Is it, though?’_ The sudden intrusion startled him. He’d never considered anything more. He was a soldier, a weapon and a tool to be used. What else was there for him to do?

_‘Wouldn’t it be nice to find out?’_ This voice was familiar, but his mind was too sluggish to put a name to it. He wanted to be angry with it for questioning him. It was far too late for these doubts.

_‘Are you sure? There’s always a chance, you know?’_ A chance? A chance of what? No one was coming to save him, he was just another piece on the board, and he was no longer in play. He was going to die, as he was meant to.

_‘I’ll never understand you meatlings. You’re always so quick to give up.’_ He felt his brow crumple in confusion, gritting his teeth against a stab of pain in his chest. _‘I think you should try.’_ Try what?

_‘Living. Really living, not whatever it is that you’ve been doing all these years. That wasn’t life, Meatsack. That was a waste.’_ His temper flared, but he was too weak and tired to retort. What was the point of all this? How can a dying man try living? No matter how much he wanted to, it would be impossible.

_‘I’ll make you a little deal. I’ll help you, but you have to answer me honestly. Are you happy?’_ He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say that he was as happy as he could ever be and that he regretted nothing, but sitting there soaked in his own blood, alone and in pain perhaps wasn’t something he relished. Alone. He hated being alone. At least with his master, he hadn't been. _‘Well? Are you?’_ No, he decided. He wasn’t happy. Satisfied that he'd done all he could, perhaps. Not happy.

_‘What would make you happy?’_ Why does it matter? _‘Because I said it does.’_ He snorted in annoyance, but considered the question. The memories were faint now; the warmth in his heart almost gone, but he could remember her smile and the fire she carried inside. She’d made him happy, at least for a while. But it was as it always would be. His slow aging and long life would always leave him alone. _‘Love?’_ That was too strong a word and carried too many expectations. Expectations someone as ruined as he could never meet. Companionship. Understanding. Honesty. Those things would make him happy.

_‘That’s easier anyway.’_ He took a ragged breath and found himself surprised it wasn’t his last. How much longer would this take? Had he truly been left to die so slowly? He couldn’t say he hadn’t earned it, but even he usually had more mercy than this.

_‘Okay, here’s my deal Meatsack. I’m going to give you a chance, and you’re going to try again. My only condition is that you can never return here.’_ Why would anyone want to do that? What had he done to deserve a second chance? _‘Why not? Can’t I just do it because I want to?’_ Perhaps, but it was an odd thing to want, especially for him. _‘If I think you deserve it, just accept it and do what I’ve asked. Take the chance I’m giving you and find a way to be happy.’_ He sighed, and let himself slump against the wall. None of this would matter in the end, but at least he could die with the beautiful lie that was hope.  
***  
The summoning stone loomed over her on the dais, silent and still as it had been for weeks. The war with Múspell was quite literally heating up and it demanded more manpower; but her luck had seemingly run dry. Every time she entered this room, she felt miserable and prematurely disappointed, as if knowing that any attempt to call help from another world would end up being a wash. Her heroes had been working so hard to get her what she needed, but it was starting to wear on them all. Sighing, she reached down into the pocket of her robe and pulled out the necessary payment.

“Five orbs is a lot you know.” She griped, her words meant for no one in particular. She loaded the lustrous stones into the Breidablik’s chamber, sighing in resignation. They’d recently freed a group of heroes from Embla’s control, maybe they’d keep their word and come to help. She took a deep breath and aimed, her heart beginning to pick up the pace ever so slightly. No matter how disappointing summoning often was, she had to admit that it was always thrilling. Just the chance of calling someone that could change everything was exciting. She closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger, listening as the sound of the shot bounced off the walls.

She opened her eyes felt her heart sink. Nothing. She bit her lip as frustrated tears pricked at her eyes, her weapon suddenly weighing a ton in her hand. She couldn’t go back out there and bring no one with her. She wasn’t sure anyone else could weather the frustration. People were tired and that fatigue was making tempers short. She needed someone that could help them turn the tides, even if only a little. She looked down at the Breidablik, chewing her lip in thought. When she’d come here, she’d been in a low place, Alfonse and the others had given her a purpose. She couldn’t give in now, there was too much riding on her. With a frustrated growl, she clenched her jaw, resigning herself to her task.

“Whose dick do I have to suck to get a little help around here?” She shoved five more orbs into the chamber, gritting her teeth as she took aim. Someone would come this time. They had to, or else she may actually scream. She pulled the trigger; not bothering to close her eyes this time, as if challenging the stone in the center of the room to let her down again. The sigils flashed a bright red, a whirring sound filling the room as whatever magic that was at work did its job and she found herself smiling in satisfaction. Whoever it was, they would be better than nothing at all.

The stone platform became shrouded by smoke, the smell of ozone wafting into the air. She took a breath and waited for the newcomer to step out and greet her, as she’d come to expect. When no one did, she frowned and stepped forward to see if something had gone wrong and was greeted by the clang of something metallic falling to the floor, watching in confusion as a pitch black and eerily familiar helm rolled to a stop at her feet. She stooped down to pick it up, peering down into the empty eyeholes of the Black Knight’s helmet, remembering all of the times she’d wondered who was under it. Usually she’d feel giddy at the prospect of finally uncovering the truth, but this was too ominous feel anything but concern.

“Hello?” She called out, her eyes tearing away from the diagonal cut across the front of the helm to peer into the smoke. When no one answered, she made her way up the stone steps onto the dais, waving smoke away from her face. A man knelt in front of the summoning stone, leaning heavily on an unsheathed Alondite; his head hanging weakly, breath ragged. Holding the helm under one arm, she stooped to look at him, shaking fingers reaching out to brush sweaty cobalt hair away from his forehead. “Hey there, what’s all this drama? It’s just a flesh wound.” She teased, nudging his shoulder gently, but doing so upset his precarious balance and sent him collapsing face down onto the ground. “H-hey!”

She pressed her fingers under his jaw, praying to feel a heartbeat and was relieved when she found it, weak and slow, but present. It was impossible to tell the extent of his injuries, but if his usual self was anything to go off of, they had to be nasty. The man didn’t go down easily, and even when he did end up needing to retreat, it was done only at her insistence. If he was hurt this badly, she had to act quickly. She unbuckled the leather straps holding his pauldrons in place as fast as she could with her unsteady fingers, putting them aside before rolling him onto his side.

“Just sit tight, bud. I’ll be back with help.” She reassured him, squeezing his gauntleted hand before charging down the stone steps and out the door, shouting for a healer as she went. Normally, she wouldn’t cause such a fuss. She didn’t particularly like making anyone panic, but this wasn’t the time to be conservative. Two figures came into view at the end of the hall, staves in hand. “Priscilla! Lissa! Come on, I need you two in the summoning chamber. Now.” They glanced at one another briefly before following her, their footsteps echoing off the walls.

“Evelyn? What’s going on?” Lissa asked, her tone unusually serious as Evelyn pushed the massive stone doors open. Heroes didn't usually return to the summoning chamber after their initial visit, but this was an unusual circumstance.

“Up there, come on. I don’t think we have a lot of time.” He looked paler than he had earlier, if that was at all possible and he was disturbingly still, but a gurgling cough told her he was still with them, if just barely. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of blood dripping onto the stone beneath him, grateful for her own foresight.

“Goodness. Let’s take a look.” Priscilla said, kneeling beside him. “Thankfully his armor has protected him from much, though right here,” she placed a handkerchief over his right side, frowning as it began to stain crimson, “he’s lightly armored here, and whatever caused this injury has ripped through his doublet. I can’t say how bad it is as of yet, but it seems this is the wound that felled him.” She said, quickly checking other lightly armored parts of his body for injury. He jerked when she moved his left leg, his face crumpling. It seemed his knee was hurt as well. “Lissa, help me stabilize him, please.” Priscilla stood and readied her staff, nodding to Lissa.

“Evelyn, will you support his head?” Evelyn nodded, gently placing her hand under his head, guiding it to rest in her lap. He groaned in pain, his brow knitting as the warm blue light from the healers’ work enveloped him.

“Shh, I’m sorry. I know it hurts, just hold on a little longer.” Evelyn soothed, stroking his hair. He seemed to calm as she worked through a knot with her fingers, his eyes flickering open briefly before drifting shut again. “You’re going to be okay, hon.”

“It’s not much, but it should have stopped the bleeding. Evelyn, we’re going to get some extra hands and a stretcher. Try to get his faulds off, it’ll make him easier to move.” Lissa indicated the bulky pieces at his waist before sprinting towards the door, Priscilla hot on her heels.

“Okay, hurry back.” She turned her attention back to the man in her lap, she chewed her lip briefly before beginning her search for the buckles that would allow her to get the bulkiest part of his armor off. “Excuse me, sorry. I'm not trying to be creepy, I promise.” It was awkward to be feeling around on a man she barely knew, but it was true that it would be better for everyone involved if he wasn’t quite so heavy when it came time to move him. As well as she could, she put the plates aside; her arms straining with the effort; sighing gratefully as she was finally able to return her original position, once again allowing his head to rest in her lap.

With nothing better to do, she took her time analyzing his face. Despite the bruises and the pallor of his clammy skin, he was strikingly handsome. She looked forward to seeing him later, after he'd recovered from this ordeal. She traced her finger down his nose, before gently parting his lips, inspecting his teeth. None were broken or missing from what she could tell at this angle, though it seemed he’d bitten the inside of his cheek at some point, which painted what were otherwise lovely teeth a ghastly crimson and left the his cheek looking puffy, not unlike her own had been after having her wisdom teeth removed.

“What happened to you? I thought this fancy armor of yours was blessed by some goddess?” She traced the cut across his breastplate, chewing her lip in worry. She’d need to ask the other one about it later.

“Who… are you?” His wheezed question startled her, bringing her attention back to his face. He blinked up at her, the light in the chamber clearly painful for him to look at. His eyes, though tired and dull with pain, were a lovely shade of green.

“Shhh. Don’t talk right now, you need to save your strength.” She returned to stroking his hair, hoping it would calm him as it had earlier. “My name is Evelyn. You’re safe here, I promise. I’m going to take care of you.” His lips curved up slightly, the nearest thing to a smile he could likely manage.

“You’re too pretty to be here.” He murmured, his voice so weak and soft that she would have missed it if she weren’t so close. Her heart skipped lightly, her cheeks heating as he leaned into her touch. “I expected hell to be far worse.” It made sense that he assumed he’d died. He was on the brink when he arrived, and he’d been pulled from his own world so suddenly he didn’t have time to adjust.

“Hush. Just focus on breathing right now, okay?” He coughed and grimaced, but fell silent as she’d asked, his green eyes sliding shut once more. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you through this.” She squeezed his hand again, smiling as his fingers flexed slightly in return. The doors flew open, Lissa and Priscilla hauling a stretcher between them, Hector and Arden in tow behind them. “Hurry up, he’s conscious, but just barely. I want to get him to the infirmary as quickly as we can.” Evelyn ordered.

“Damn, what’d you do to him, Evie?” Hector teased, moving behind her on the dais.

“Worry more about what I’ll do to you if you two drop him, punk. Be careful with him.” Evelyn snorted, surrendering her position at his head in favor of allowing Hector to work.

“I hear you, don’t worry. I don’t need him dying on my conscience.” Arden grunted in agreement as he searched for purchase on the man’s legs. “Ready?” Hector asked, waiting for his helper’s affirmation.

“Yep. Let’s get him out of here.” Together, the two men hauled the injured knight onto the stretcher, prompting him to yelp in an uncharacteristic manner, which Evelyn took as confirmation that his knee was indeed injured.

“Shhh. You’re okay.” Evelyn reaching out to soothe him before rising to her feet, making a mental note to send someone back to retrieve the discarded bits of armor and the sword. It wouldn’t do to leave something as rare and important as Alondite laying around. “Okay, let’s move him. Lissa, he’s stable for now, right?”

“Should be. He’s awfully pale, so he’s probably lost a bit of blood, but we can’t know just how bad it is until we get him out of the rest of his kit.” Evelyn glanced at him briefly before turning away, opening the door for the procession behind her. Whether she wanted to believe it or not, the man on that stretcher was in bad shape and could still die. She’d always thought it would be nice to know that there was really a man under all that black steel and menace, but not like this. She never wanted to see him like this again.  
***  
It was an almost dizzying flurry of activity in the infirmary, hands all working in tandem to strip off steel plates and blood soaked cloth. Evelyn worked quickly at the buckles on his bracers, before moving on. She passed the pieces off to whoever was available, pausing for a moment to inspect his hands. They were large and strong as one might expect, his fingernails were neatly trimmed, but the ragged skin around them spoke of a more nervous disposition than she’d expected.

He hadn’t stirred since being lifted onto the stretcher, but he seemed to be coming to once more as he was jostled about, his only means of defense being stripped away from him by strangers. She shushed him as his fist clenched before moving to help Priscilla peel away his bloody arming doublet. The thin white shirt underneath was stained a brilliant scarlet, the worst of the blood concentrated on his right side, just beneath the ribs. Lissa cut the fabric away with a pair of shears, before moving on to remove his boots and trousers.

“This is what we’re most worried about, I think.” Priscilla said, wetting a piece of clean linen with a strong smelling tincture, which she then applied to the wound before moving to inspect the rest of him. “Everything else should heal nicely, but this wound is deep. It’s going to take time to heal fully, but I think he’ll make it. He’s strong.” Evelyn let her eyes sweep over him, cataloging his injuries. His knee was badly swollen and bruised, but almost everywhere else the plate had covered was unscathed save some minor bumps and scrapes. Strangely enough, his chest was uninjured despite the fact that his cuirass had been cut into. Perhaps that damage was older?

“Jesus man, how’re you even still alive?”

“Honestly, I’m surprised as well.” Priscilla murmured, preparing a large needle and thick thread before putting it aside. “I can only assume that he was meant to be here.” She applied pressure to his ribs, frowning slightly. “It seems that he’s broken a rib or two, but I believe they’ll heal well with enough treatment.”

“Can your staves repair the damage?” Evelyn looked at the pile of linens covering his wound, grateful that it seemed the bleeding had stopped.

“Not all at once, no. Too much magic at once could make matters worse for him. Some people have terrible reactions to it, so we tend to use it sparingly. He will heal more or less on his own, with only minor intervention from us.” Evelyn sighed, helping the aides gather up the discarded pieces of armor and clothing. They would be sent to the armory for cleaning and mending, though she found herself wondering if they could even fix blessed armor.

“Besides, we’re healers not miracle workers. Magic doesn’t fix everything you know? If it did, no one would ever die or lose a limb.” Lissa added, preparing bandages and salves. Evelyn huffed, smiling in spite of the situation.

“I'll get out of your way, ladies. I don't have much else to add to this situation. I'll be back to check on him in a few hours.” She started when a clammy hand closed around her wrist, drawing her attention back to the man on the table. He was awake again, the look in his eyes begging her not to leave. “Easy there, big boy. You need to try to stay still.” She said, stroking the back of his hand. “You'll be okay here with them, they're going to help you. I'll be back before you know it.” She tried to keep her voice soft and neutral, but seeing him like that was threatening to make her cry.

“Please…” Evelyn shushed him, her fingers threading through his hair again, unsure how else to calm him.

“Keep him still, Evelyn. We're going to put him down for a bit.” Priscilla instructed, rooting through the large cabinet in the corner. From the corner of her eye, Evelyn saw a softly pulsing light, not unlike that of a healing staff. She watched as his eyelids drooped, his body relaxing. “Just a moment longer.”

“There you go. Just take a little nap.” His labored breathing evened out and his hand went limp as an artificial sleep fell over him. With him being in such bad shape, it was unnerving to see, but she had to trust the healers. They would know better than her. “Okay. Now I'm going to get out of the way.” Lissa laughed lightly, drying her hands on a clean towel.

“We've got it from here, don't sweat it. Come by later.”  
***

“And that’s what happened.” Evelyn concluded her explanation, folding her arms behind her back.

“I see… that’s certainly unusual. I’ve never heard of a hero showing up injured before. You’re sure that he’s the Black Knight?” Anna asked, tapping her chin in thought.

“Well if he isn’t, then he inherited the armor and Alondite from him. There’s no mistaking those two things.” Alfonse and Sharena exchanged nervous glances briefly, before the prince spoke.

“You don’t suppose his unusual manner of arrival will affect his performance as a hero, do you?” He asked, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “I don’t want to put him in any unnecessary danger.”

“I don’t believe so, no. If he was summoned, he should still have all the same rules attached to him as any other. He should revive if he falls, but I do agree that we should be careful until we know for sure. I’ll look into it and see if there’s any information on it in the library. Evelyn, give that robe to a maid… you’re going to cause a panic if people see you covered in blood like that.” Evelyn glanced down at her clothes, wrinkling her nose at the stained sleeves.

“Yeah… good point. Kind of gross, huh?” Anna hummed, a wry grin twisting her mouth. “Right. Well, I’m going to get cleaned up and make my rounds before checking in on him. Who knows how long that’s going to take.”

“How bad was it, Evelyn?” Sharena asked, eyeing her bloodied robes with concern.

“Pretty bad. Aside from all the other cuts and bruises, he’s got this gnarly gash about here.” She indicated her left side, sweeping her hand diagonally towards her ribs. “It’s a pretty deep cut, and I’m sure it did all kinds of muscle damage. His knee is pretty banged up too, he's probably gonna need a cane for a bit.” The young princess went a little pale but didn’t shy away from the details. She really was more grown up than her brother and Anna gave her credit for.

“He’s not going to be able to see any action for a while, I’d say. He needs rest, and he’ll have to train back up to his peak, if he can ever reach those heights again.” Anna said, moving towards the door. “A wound that serious can cripple even the best warrior.” Evelyn knew this of course. The human body could take a lot of abuse, but it had its limits. Athletes had their careers cut short by injuries all the time; and at least functionally, this was little different.

“We’ll see. We can’t know anything until he’s healed up, I don’t want to count him out just yet. If the other one’s anything to judge him off of, he’s still going to be damn helpful; even if he doesn’t come back as strong as he was before this happened.” Perhaps it was the fact that he came exactly when they needed him, or maybe it was just her soft heart, but hearing Anna sound doubtful angered her. It seemed as though the commander understood because she raised her hands in a placating fashion, her expression softening.

“I don’t doubt that. I’m sure that when he’s recovered, he'll be a great boon; but that doesn’t help the fact that we need someone now.” Evelyn groaned, crossing her arms. It wasn’t her fault that this happened, it was all so random that she couldn’t control it even if she wanted to.

“Well, he’s what we got. I’m fresh out of orbs and I’m not gonna bet the farm on the derby, so until we can get more, we’re just gonna to have to be satisfied.” She shrugged out of her stained robe, slinging it over her arm as she marched towards the door. “I’m gonna take a bath, I’ll let you all know how he’s doing later.”

She knew they were as frustrated with their situation as she was, but she’d be damned if anyone was going to take it out on her, and especially not him. He’d been through enough already, and until he was strong enough to take care of himself, she would defend him; just as she had for many of the others. Regardless of who he was before he came, he was one of them now.  
***  
She watched for a moment as the Black Knight shifted slightly on the spot, his attention turned away from her. She usually wouldn’t be so hesitant to approach him, but recent developments gave her pause. She had no way of knowing how he’d react to finding out that she knew what he kept under that helm, especially considering how closely he kept that secret. He had to have a good reason for it, or else he wouldn’t do it.

“Is there something you need, Summoner?” His voice sounded bored, though there was a slight edge to it.

“Sorry, yeah. I need to talk to you.” She said, finally leaving her place by the pillar she’d been cowering behind.

“Speak then. I am yours to command.” She shook her head, grabbing his wrist and tugging. He remained solidly in place, but didn’t pull away. If an expressionless helm could look perturbed, his certainly did.

“Privately, man. You’ll thank me in a minute.” Wordlessly, he followed her into an alcove nearby. She’d misjudged how small the space was, but if they were going to have an awkward conversation, they may as well go all in.

“What is it? Have I displeased you in some way?”

“No! God, no. It’s nothing like that, you’re great. It’s uh… a matter of who I just summoned.” She said, keeping her voice low enough that only he could hear.

“Go on.” His interest was piqued it seemed.

“It was uh… you. I guess it is, anyway. Beat to hell and damn near dead, but that’s not what I think you’re gonna hate. Me and everyone that had to haul him into the infirmary knows what you look like under there, and when he’s back on his feet, everyone else will too. Sorry, I didn’t plan on that.” The words tumbled out of her mouth in an awkward rush, so much so that she wouldn’t blame him if he missed it. She shrunk in on herself as he looked down at her in silence, his mood impossible to read. Finally he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I see. That is quite a nuisance, though I cannot blame you for it. Is he going to survive?” He almost sounded hopeful that the answer would be no.

“Probably. It’s a little early to call it, I’d say; but you’re such a bullheaded sonuvabitch that I feel pretty good about his chances.” The Black Knight chuffed quietly, the closest thing she ever got him to a laugh. “So… what’re you gonna do? I mean, it’s kind of impossible to pretend you aren’t the same person. Same height, same build, same voice. No one’s gonna buy twin brothers, either.”

“I see no reason to change anything. He may live as he is, I shall continue as I am. You may continue to call me a different name every day as you have been.” She grinned sheepishly up at him, a slight pang of guilt shooting through her. It had become such an in joke among the Order that everyone else played along now.

“Sorry about that. I just don’t like not having a name to call you by. Just referring to you as the Black Knight kind of dehumanizes you.”

“All is well. I found it perplexing at first, but I grew to accept it for what it was. I… appreciate the sentiment, even if it is unnecessary.” She nodded, relaxing against the wall. She’d always worried on some level that it offended him, though she did look forward to knowing his real name.

“Can I ask you something?” He hummed in affirmation, waiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

“This armor,” she tapped her fingers lightly against his cuirass, the metallic sound of her nails striking steel filling the space between them, “I thought it was blessed by a goddess and pretty much indestructible. What could actually cut into it?”

“Only two blades I know of can do so. My own, or Ragnell. If his armor is damaged, it is likely it came at the hand of Gawain’s son; and by the sound of it, he lost.” The Black Knight shrugged dismissively, as if his own near death meant nothing. “If he lost, then his death was earned and he should have faced it with dignity.”

It was a cruel thing to say about one’s self, but she supposed that it was fitting for him. She didn’t agree, but she understood his line of thought. She mulled over what he’d told her, already concerned about keeping Ike away from him. While he managed to keep his desire to beat down the man that killed his father under control, he might not be able to resist when there was a face to aim all that anger at.

“Does Ike know you… you know, outside of the armor?” She asked, chewing her lip in worry.

“Yes, at least where I am from. He has seen my face a number times.” She nodded, chewing absently on her thumbnail, starting when he gently removed it from her mouth. “Stop that, it’s a horrible habit.” He sounded almost affectionate in his scolding.

“Sorry. Is that going to cause problems, you think?”

“His being here is a problem in of itself, but I cannot say if it will make interpersonal relations worse. Awkwardness is unavoidable.” The Black Knight seemed uncomfortable with the way things had panned out, but given how little he usually gave away, it was refreshing to see.

“Yeah… I guess I’ll just have to try and keep everyone safe and separate. Kind of a pain, but I guess it’ll be worth it in the end.” She reached out and patted his shoulder, smiling up at him. “Thanks for hearing me out. You’re a good sport, Brian.”

“So I am Brian today, I take it?” She nodded, squeezing herself past his cuirass.

“I hope he’ll at least give me a real name. Your parents thought hard about it, you know?” He scoffed and followed her out of the alcove, his demeanor returning to normal.

“Don’t concern yourself over that. You’ve spent enough time on me now, you’ve more important things to see to.” He and Seth sometimes sounded exactly the same, but just this once, he was right. She did have something important to see to, though she was really just moving from one version of him to another. It had been a few hours since she’d left him in the infirmary. With luck, they were finished and he would wake up soon.  
***  
The man in the bed was still and pale, but he was breathing and that was all that mattered to her in that moment. He’d been cleaned up since she’d seen him last, and while it did help a little, it showed off the injuries that marred his face. Looking down at him, she could see that the swelling of his cheek had gone down, but was certainly bruised and likely quite painful.

Sighing, she took a seat in the chair nearby, watching his bare chest rise and fall. Was he warm enough? While it wasn’t cold in the infirmary, he was only covered in a single blanket. Had he eaten recently? Did he need water? She wanted him to wake up so that she could ask, but she knew she couldn’t rush this. He would sleep until whatever Priscilla had done to him wore off, and then he’d keep sleeping until he was ready to wake up. It could take a few days for all she knew; but she didn’t want him to wake up alone in a strange place. So she would wait, and spend as much time at his side as she needed to. 


	2. A New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelgius wakes to find himself in an unfamiliar place, injured and confused. He gets an unpleasant surprise and must come to terms with its implications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a little longer to update than I expected. I was having some health problems that made it hard to actually sit down to write, so sorry about that. 
> 
> It ended up a lot longer than I anticipated as well, but there was a lot to get through and I didn't want to put it off for the next chapter, so I just made it work.

She watched as his chest rose and fell, his serene face unchanging as he slept. It had been almost two days since he arrived and he still hadn’t woken. While the healers didn’t seem to be terribly concerned yet, she found herself pacing and fretting over him no matter where she was or what she was doing. He hadn’t fought so hard to get to this point to die of dehydration. She reached out carefully and took his hand in both of hers, feeling the thick calluses on his palms. He was warm now, no longer clammy and chilled; and he smelled a little like apple cider vinegar, which meant that a healer had been in to sponge him down and change his bandages.

“Come on big guy, wake up. We can’t afford to lose you.” She squeezed his hand in encouragement, watching his face for any change in his expression, but all she got was a rumble from his stomach in reply. There was no doubt that he was hungry or thirsty at this point; and unlike in her own world, they didn’t have a way to do anything about it. If he didn’t wake up soon, it would likely be too late. Her heart ached as she remembered the last time she’d sat beside someone and watched them wither away. It was painful and left her feeling helpless; and in his case, guilty. She’d put him through more stress and perhaps more pain than he would have experienced otherwise. She sighed and let her head fall into her hand, fighting down a yawn as she heard a clock striking the hour somewhere down the hall.

She was tired. She could hardly recall a time when she was more tired, and she’d worked two jobs before. This war and worry were going to be the death of her if something didn’t change soon. With a frustrated groan, she allowed herself to slip out of her chair and into the floor by his bed, her head coming to rest near his shoulder, still holding onto his hand. This was as good a place as any to fall asleep for the night. Only the healers would be coming in, and if he woke up, at least someone would be there to explain everything to him. It made her feel safer when there was someone else nearby, anyway.

“I’m going to try and get a little shut eye, okay? Wake me up if you need me.” She murmured, not expecting any answer from the man asleep in the bed, but wishing for one anyway.  
***  
He wasn’t sure if it was his parched throat or his aching back that woke him first, but he became acutely aware of both almost immediately. He blinked several times, swearing quietly as his eyes began to itch and water. How long had they been shut? How was he still alive? _Was he?_ He frowned as he watched shadows dance on the plain ceiling above him before glancing around the room in hopes of finding some kind of clue as to where he was. Everything was so normal and spartan that it could be anywhere. A soft sound to his left made him jump, sending a jolt of pain through his ribs and chest. He looked down at himself and realized immediately that he’d been divested of his armor and clothing, a neat row of stitches keeping the wound Ike had inflicted upon him shut.

How? How had someone gotten to him in time? _Why_ would they do such a thing? Was he not a murderer, a monster that had taken the lives of people they loved? This was wrong. He should have died and been left to rot where he was. Had he not served his purpose? Sephiran likely had no plans to save him from Ashera’s judgement. He’d long ago accepted that he was disposable and despite his obedience, still part a whole that his master despised; he was nothing but a dog that was trained to maul on command and he had done so with relish. If he was still alive, that could only mean that his master had failed and someone had taken pity on him. He froze as he heard a soft groan, feeling the weight of someone’s touch on his palm.

He turned his head to see who would be foolish enough to be so close to him and found himself surprised. A young woman lay there, her small hand holding onto his as she slept, her face blissful as she dreamed. Her ginger hair fell across her cheek, the moonlight highlighting her pale skin and freckles. He extracted his hand carefully, brushing an errant curl away from her forehead with his fingertips. He didn’t recognize her, and a healer would never fall asleep at the bedside of their ward, but there was no one else in the room. He found that he didn’t want to wake her. There was something soothing about simply being near her while she slept that made these unusual circumstances feel a little more normal, but he needed answers. And water.

As gently as he could, he nudged her hand with his, watching as her lovely face scrunched before her eyes flickered open. She took a deep breath and yawned, rubbing at her eyes briefly before looking for what roused her. She went still as their eyes met in the dimness of the room, feeling almost too intimate for two strangers. She jerked away, her head colliding with the small table at his bedside. He reached out to steady her, the movement sending tendrils of pain through him once more, knocking the breath from him.

“ _Shit_! Ouch… owowow…” He watched as she clutched the side of her head, curling in on herself as she took deep breaths. He felt guilty for startling her. “Oof, that’s gonna bruise.” He heard her murmur as she rose to her feet, groaning as she stretched. “Watch your eyes.” Before he could ask what she meant, the gas lamp on the table flickered to life, the light burning his eyes. “You’re awake!” She seemed disproportionately pleased that he’d done something so simple, and the sudden turns in her mood nearly made his head hurt. “Here, let me help you up. You’ve got to be parched.” He jerked as he felt her hand close around his wrist, watching in disbelief as she draped his arm around her shoulders.

“You don’t need to do that. I can--”

“The hell you can. I’m not gonna let you rip out your stitches just so you can protect your pride.” The firmness of her tone gave him pause. Normally he would disregard such a reprimand, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so now. “Okay now, push with your legs and other arm. I’m strong, but I ain’t that strong. One, two, and up we get.” He did as she told him and assisted her, finding it unusually difficult to sit up. The pain was nigh unbearable, but he grit his teeth and breathed through it. She shushed him, apologizing to him in a soft tone as she poured him a glass of water. Her gentleness was almost startling in its newness. No one had ever treated him quite like this, not since he was very young, before everything changed. Even She hadn’t been been quite so gentle. “Here you go, hon. Drink up.”

He did as she said, accepting the cup from her gratefully. The cool liquid soothed his dry mouth and sore throat. How long had it been since he’d had water? It felt as if he hadn’t had any in days. He thanked her quietly as she refilled the cup, downing the second serving with as much enthusiasm as he had the first.

“Bless your heart. I’m glad you woke up when you did. You were almost at the point of no return. I was worried about you.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, sipping more slowly at the third cup.

“Yeah I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You weren’t exactly in the best shape when you got here. You’ve been out for two days.” That explained his aching back and the way his stomach begged for food. His injuries explained his lack of clothing and his long period of inactivity, but nothing explained her and this room.

“Where exactly is ‘here?’ Where I was before had no pleasant infirmaries.” He watched as she placed the pitcher on the table before taking a seat in a nearby chair.

“Well, that’s a little more difficult to answer, but I’ll give it a go. ‘Here’ is the kingdom of Askr.”

“I… beg your pardon?” What sort of fool did this woman take him for? He’d never heard of such a place; and as far as he knew, no new kingdoms had sprung up in the past few days. There were other continents other than Tellius, certainly, but Begnion had dealings with most of them. She sighed and crossed her arms, her eyebrows pinching in the center.

“Okay. Let’s try it this way. What’s the last thing you remember before you woke up?”

“I…” What did he tell her? He had no idea who she was, where they were, or what had happened.

“You had a nasty fight, right?” She offered, indicating his sewn side.

“Yes, I suppose you could say that. I remember fighting, losing, and… I was very certain I had died, and yet here I am.” She smiled softly, leaning toward him.

“Nope, you’re still very much alive. You don’t remember anything else?” He frowned, thinking back as hard as he could grasping for anything that would help him understand.

“I remember a voice. I remember recognizing it, but I couldn’t place it. I was sure that I was merely hallucinating. And… I think I remember light and an odd smell, but not much else.” She nodded, listening to his attempts to recall anything useful before she sat up straight once more.

“Okay. So here’s the deal. We are currently in the kingdom of Askr, as I said. You came from somewhere in Tellius, right?” She asked.

“Yes… how do you…?”

“Not important right now. Have you ever heard of other worlds besides your own?” Her question was so odd he had to wait for his hazy mind to process it before he could answer.

“I am… aware of the theories, yes. I can’t say whether I put much stock in them or not, I’ve never seen any factual proof for or against their existence.” She nodded, her expression understanding.

“Yeah, I was the same way when I got here, but Askr is absolutely a different world from yours, mine, and pretty much everyone else who got here like we did.”

“And that is?” He watched her face, waiting for any sign of dishonesty and was increasingly impressed that there was none.

“We were all summoned here. I was called by a woman named Anna who needed my help, and you and everyone else were called by me. I’m tactician of this operation, the rest of you are powerful warriors whose strength we need in order to end a war.” This sounded like absolute nonsense, but she was being far too serious for it to be a poorly constructed joke. “I know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense when you hear it like this. It would be a lot easier to show you what I mean, so maybe in the morning I’ll convince the healers to let you hobble along with me. For now, just try to think of it like this: your world and all the others like it are like the roots of a tree. They sprawl out in all different directions, but they all lead to the same place; here. This world is like the tree itself, the center of our collective universe. Get it?” He couldn’t say whether he did or not. She gave him an abstract explanation to an already abstract concept but it was better than nothing at all, perhaps.

“I suppose it will have to suffice for now.” She chuckled, rising to her feet.

“I guess it will. Anyhow. You’re here now, and you’re awake. We should probably get you some grub before you pass out on me. I’ve been hearing your stomach growling for a while now.” She pulled the rope nearby, likely calling for a servant. “And then, after the healers take a look at you, we’ll see about getting you a real bath and a shave. I can’t imagine you feel anywhere near your best…?” She paused, her expression morphing into one of surprise. “Oh we haven’t even introduced ourselves properly, have we? Sorry about that, not very ladylike of me. I’m Evelyn, and you are…?”

He looked at her hand a moment, pondering his situation. It would be pointless to lie at this point if what she said was true. There was no reason not to share that secret with her. Her hand was much smaller than his, her arm just as freckled and pale as her face. Her eyes were expectant and her smile was bright. It had been so long since he’d simply been himself, with no other expectations. Perhaps it was time to try again.

“My name is Zelgius. It’s a pleasure, Evelyn.” He took her hand and was pleasantly surprised by the strength of her grip. Her name felt familiar on his tongue, as if he’d spoken it before many times, but he was certain he’d never met her before.

“Zelgius… that’s a nice name. I think it suits you.” He wasn't sure if it was her warm smile or the earnest way she spoke, but he felt his face heat up and his heart skip lightly, though the feeling left as soon as a knock fell on the door. Evelyn moved quickly to open the door, revealing a nervous looking young woman in a plain black dress. “Hey there, Abigail. Sorry to call on you so late, but he's awake now. Could you bring him something to eat, please?” She spoke to the maid in much the same way she'd spoken to him, her tone fond.

“Of course! What should I bring the gentleman?”

“Jakob made some soup for this occasion. Just a bowl of that and maybe a slice of bread. Don't want to overwhelm him.” He knew it was for the best. A heavy meal would simply make him sick, but he found himself almost whimpering at the thought of food. It had been many, many years since he was last so hungry. “We’ll get you something more filling later. I know you're hungry, I'm sorry.”

“You needn't apologize. It is for the best that I eat lightly for now.” As she came back to his bedside, he became aware of just how exposed he was. He'd noticed previously of course, but it had all seemed so strange and dreamlike that his nakedness hadn't really registered; but now that she was near and he was fully awake, he found himself wanting to pull the sheet up to his neck and hide.

How much had she seen? How was she so comfortable sitting, nevermind sleeping, beside him in such a state? Perhaps she didn't know? Should he say something? What would he even say? No, he decided. It would be best if he remained quiet and let her remain as ignorant as possible.

“Are you okay? Your ears are awfully red.” Damn his ears. They always gave him away when he was embarrassed, no matter how serious he managed to remain otherwise.

“I'm quite alright, My Lady, I assure you.” She hummed, an understanding smile blooming across her face, her eyes flickering downward momentarily before meeting his once more.

“Don't worry. You can get dressed in a bit. I'll be getting a healer while you eat, so you can have a little privacy.” The heat in his ears spread down his neck and into his cheeks, giving him the feeling that he was all but glowing; but if he was blushing as furiously as he assumed he was, she didn't comment on it.

She rose to let Abigail into the room speaking quietly with her a moment before glancing back at him, smiling reassuringly before squeezing the maid’s shoulder and slipping out of the room.

“Here we are, Sir. It's not much, but it should take the edge off until breakfast. Lady Evelyn will return shortly with a healer.”

“Thank you, Abigail.” He murmured, accepting the tray of food from her. His arms felt weak and leaden, but he managed to put the tray down cleanly without worrying the maid.

“You're very welcome, Sir. I shall leave you to your meal.” She curtseyed and bustled out of the room, leaving him alone for what may have been the first time since his arrival. His stomach growled as he took a spoonful of soup. It was surprisingly flavorful for something meant to be a bland first meal and warmed him pleasantly.

It was almost lonely without Evelyn in the room. He was in an unfamiliar place without weapon or armor with which to defend himself, but her presence was something that grounded him in reality and at least made it all feel real. As it was now, he felt almost as if he was floating, stuck out of time and space. He shook his head and downed the rest of his soup. Thinking too much about it all made him feel dizzy. He needed to focus on what was in front of him instead of trying to see the larger picture, at least until things were explained to him more thoroughly.

He jumped when the door swung open once more, Evelyn rejoining him as she spoke with someone just out of sigh. It hadn’t been long, but he found himself glad to see her. Attempting to maintain his dignity would stop him from overthinking or becoming too overwhelmed. He didn’t recognize the other young woman who had come in after her, but he could only assume that she was a healer. Her short red hair was slightly rumpled and her eyes looked tired, but she jumped into action immediately.

“Good evening, Sir Zelgius. My name is Priscilla. It’s good to see you awake, you’re looking much better.” Her voice was very soft and almost demure, but it was clear she was simply soft spoken rather than shy. “Let me take a look. You may feel some discomfort, but please tell me if anything I do is too painful.” He allowed Evelyn to the tray away as Priscilla came around the bed to his injured side, her hands pressing around the wound. He winced as she pushed against his ribs, but said nothing. It was nothing he’d never felt before. “Your ribs are healing nicely, I’m going to move your arm now.”

He nodded and allowed her to take him by the wrist. She began to move his arm this way and that, raising and lowering it, pushing and pulling it. He hissed as she pushed it across his chest, the movement pulling slightly at the stitches, but it was bearable. She nodded, seemingly satisfied with her tests.

“Now I need to check on your knee. I beg your pardon, Sir.” Before he could protest, Priscilla moved the sheet, exposing his left leg. He found himself glancing nervously at Evelyn. Her eyes were locked on his bruised, swollen knee, her brows pulled down in a concerned knot. He wanted to reach out and smooth the crease in her forehead, but remained still as Priscilla leaned over him. “The swelling has come down some, but it still needs time. You’re going to need some assistance to get around, I’m afraid.” She said, taking him by the ankle. The pain he felt as she moved his leg was far more intense than anything else she’d done. He couldn’t stop the snarl that tore its way out of his throat as his eyes watered and his head swam. Gentle fingers in his hair were all that kept him from trying to pull away. “I see. I believe this injury will require some extra treatments. We wanted to avoid it and allow you to heal naturally, but it seems that the damage is more serious than we expected.”

He breathed deeply through his nose, focusing on the way Evelyn’s fingers felt in his hair rather than the pain. Her touch was too much and not enough all at once, both maddening and soothing. He wanted her to keep going, to touch him more, and yet feared what would happen if she did. He couldn’t let himself become addicted to such things. If he allowed himself to indulge in this too often, it would only end in more pain.

“There we go, you’re okay sugar. We’re done with that.” She spoke to him so affectionately that it almost made him wonder if somehow they knew each other. He could already see from the way she spoke to both Abigail and Priscilla that she was a kind person, but this was something else. This was a level of familiarity that they simply shouldn’t have. “He should still be able to move to a real room and get cleaned up, right? There’s no point in making him stay cooped up in here now that he’s awake.”

“I don’t see why not. I’m sure there’s a cane that will be long enough to work for him somewhere. Let me check.” Zelgius felt a mix of relief and disappointment when Evelyn pulled away, leaving him only with the ghost of her fingers. She smelled wonderful, like apple blossoms. The faster he put distance between them, the better it would be for the both of them. “Here we are. This should work until we can have one made.” Priscilla said, presenting them with a simple black cane. He didn’t expect to need one until much later, if he ever made it to such an age. He frowned as a thought struck him: how was he supposed to go anywhere in this state? He’d done many things over the years, but walking the halls of a strange placed naked was not one of them.

“Ladies… I appreciate all of this, but I’m not fit to be seen right now.” He kept his tone as delicate as possible. They meant well, after all.

“Oh right… I forgot that we had to scrap most of your clothes. They weren’t really salvageable. We requisitioned clothes for you yesterday, but I don’t think the tailor is finished yet.” Evelyn chewed her lip in thought, looking down at him as if he would have a solution to their conundrum. “Well, I think the trousers were fine, so at least there’s that. Shirts are fairly easy to come across around here… though you’re so tall they might be kind of short. I wonder if one of Hector’s would work…” He wasn’t sure who Hector was, but he wasn’t terribly keen on borrowing another man’s clothing.

“Are there many people awake at the moment?” Zelgius asked at length, resigned to the fact that he would likely need to forgo his shirt in order to move out of the infirmary,trying to ignore the feeling of dread that thought invoked. Evelyn sighed, smacking herself on the forehead, her expression exasperated.

“ _Goddamn it_ , I’m **such** an idiot.” Zelgius cocked an eyebrow, watching as she headed for the door. “I know exactly where to get clothes for you. I’ll be right back.” He watched as she left once more, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.  
***  
She hesitated a moment before raising her fist to knock on his door. She’d never actually come to his room before--no one had that she knew of. The Black Knight kept to himself and everyone seemed happy enough to let him. He was polite enough and was never openly cruel or antagonistic, but he was just so intimidating that almost everyone gave him a wide berth. It had surprised her when he all but appointed himself her personal guard.

“It’s just me. You don’t need to worry about kitting up. I need to ask you a favor.” The door creaked open, obviously an invitation. She took a deep breath and pushed her way inside, closing it quietly behind her. He leaned against the wall nearby, his expression puzzled; as if he couldn’t quite understand why he’d let her in. He looked much the same here as he did in the other room, though maybe a tad younger. He was oddly serene and almost elegant out of his armor, looking more like a man of high society than the wall of death she was used to. He was distractingly handsome when his face was free of bruises.

“What can I do for you, Summoner?” His voice was slightly gravelly with sleep, and the lack of distortion lent it a warm quality that nearly made her shiver. They both had the kind of voice she could listen to for hours and never get tired of hearing.

“Sorry to call on you this late, but I need to borrow some of your clothes.” Confusion passed over his face briefly before he pushed away from the wall, making his way towards his chest of drawers.

“He’s finally awake, I take it?” She hummed, watching his back as he pulled garments from his drawers. She couldn’t help but admire the way the muscles moved under his thin cotton shirt. She knew that he was perfectly sculpted and powerfully built, but it was impossible to enjoy it when he was passed out and half dead. She’d spent far too much time concerned with his well being to take much notice of how beautiful he was.

“Yeah, he woke up almost an hour ago. We’re about to get him set up in a room so that he can get cleaned up and settled in.” She said, forcing her attention away from his body as he turned around.

“That’s… good, I suppose. I haven’t particularly enjoyed watching you fret over him. You’ve more than enough to worry about without adding me or anyone else on top of it.” He stepped closer, handing her a neat bundle of his clothes. They smelled crisp and clean, but with a hint of something dark and alluring. It was all she could do not to bury her nose in them, but that would make this already rather odd exchange awkward.

“You don’t need to worry about me so much, you know? I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” He snorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Perhaps, but you overextend yourself and fret too much on everyone else’s behalf. I will worry about you as I see fit.” She smiled, shrugging her shoulders. He was stubborn and he could be a little overprotective at times, but she appreciated his efforts. She knew she could be hard to protect, since she often refused to simply hide behind him. She’d always been more than willing to throw punches when it came down to it.

“Well if that’s what helps you sleep at night, you do you.” She lingered a moment, simply enjoying his company. “I should get back. He’s been cowering under that blanket ever since he noticed he was naked, and you need your rest. Thank you… Zelgius.” He chuckled, placing a large hand on her back as he walked her to the door.

“You’re quite welcome, Evelyn. You should get some rest soon as well. It’s getting late, and we need you at your best.” She hummed in reply, turning back to him once more as she reached for the doorknob.

“I’ll turn in once we get him settled. Goodnight, hon. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” She let out a shaky breath as the door closed behind her, leaving her alone in the hallway, clutching a bundle of his clothes. She was all too aware how strange it all looked, but the sudden surge of affection towards him made it all the more odd. Seeing him vulnerable and weak had given her a new perspective on him, and it only made her adore him more. She shook her head, looking down at the bundle in her arms. She needed to keep the two separate somehow. Despite technically being the same man, the Zelgius she was returning to was different than the one she just left. He had experienced something that changed him and she wanted to respect those changes; and no matter how handsome he was, there was nothing but misery waiting at the end of that road.

‘ _Keep it in your pants, Evelyn_.’ Now wasn’t the right time for her to be swooning over an attractive man. She had too much work to do, and eventually, they would have to say goodbye. She didn’t need to get too attached to him. Nothing that happened in Askr would last, and eventually she would have to return to her world and he to his.  
***  
“Here we are! Sorry it took me a little longer than I meant to. We got to gabbin’.” She plopped a neat pile of clothes into his lap, smiling apologetically. “I’ll step out so you can get dressed. I’ve got a servant preparing a room for you, so you shouldn’t have any trouble getting settled in. Let me know when you’re decent.” Zelgius looked down at the heap of cloth she'd given him, feeling awkward as he resigned himself to the task at hand.

These clothes smelled far too familiar and fit a little too well for comfort. If he didn't know better, he would think that they were his. He hissed as he attempted to slip into the trousers, his battered knee sending shocks of pain through his leg. He didn't remember hurting himself so badly, but in the fight to survive, perhaps the pain hadn't mattered. He ground his teeth and pushed through, forcing the pants up past his hips. He could feel himself beginning to sweat from the pain and effort, but he had to get up now.

“You okay in there?”

“Yes, you may come in. I'm dressed.” She stepped into the room, holding a pair of very familiar boots and socks, which he found oddly comforting. At least something he wore belonged to him.

“Had someone fetch these for you. I figured you wouldn't want to walk around barefoot if you didn't have to. Here. You aren't going to be able to bend over to get these on.” He wanted to protest, but he was too tired from fighting his way into the clothes, and so allowed her to help him. It felt odd to have someone else put his boots on for him, but Evelyn was quick and efficient, and as gentle as possible. He felt very little pain as she worked on his left boot, tugging the laces tight. “There we go, hon. Now we can get you out of here. You ready?” He took a deep breath and nodded, allowing her to once again drape his arm around her shoulders as he pushed himself up on the cane he'd been provided.

Standing up was a chore, and he could only imagine that walking like this was going to be exhausting, but if feeble old folk could manage, surely he could as well. He allowed himself to lean on the cane and relied on Evelyn's strength as he took a step towards the door, his knee wobbling. He could see already that this would be slow going.

“You're okay, just keep walking. It's not too far, and I'm right here.” Evelyn's encouragement helped, if only just a little. He took another step, and then another, focusing on small details to help him ignore the way his body hurt. The floor was tiled in fine marble. His boots had been recently polished. Evelyn was warm and sturdy, still smelling sweet and floral. He could feel a lock of her hair under his hand and hoped he didn't accidentally pull on it. “Just a little further. You're almost there.” Her voice was soft and lilting, it's drawling accent charming. He was sweating in earnest now and he could feel himself beginning to shiver in the chilly hallway. “And here we are. Good job, hon. Now let me get the door.” He ignored her affectionate way of referring to him. It seemed to be the way she spoke and little else. He could not expect her to change her entire way of expressing thought just for him, and he found it incredibly charming. “Okay, come on. There should be a nice hot bath ready for you.” He wasn't sure he could get in and out of a bathtub alone, but he had no doubt that it would help.

She helped him lower himself down onto the bed before removing his boots for him, humming quietly as she worked. His head swam and his vision was blurred, but at least his stomach felt fine.

“Look at how pale you are. I'm so sorry. I know that was awful for you, but the good news is that you don't have to move much now that you're here. Do you need any help getting undressed, or do you have it? I can call for someone, if you'd like.” He knew it wasn't true, but he couldn't stand for another stranger to see him in this state, and he couldn't allow anyone, even one who didn't understand what it meant, to see the brand. That fear was simply woven too tightly into the fabric of his being.

“I… believe I will be fine, but thank you.” She smiled and gently trailed her fingers through his hair, the gesture making him shudder slightly. He could hardly remember the last time someone had touched him so much.

“Okay. I'll let you take care of yourself, and leave you be for the rest of the night. You should have everything you need, but if not we'll get it taken care of. Okay?” He nodded, grateful for her kindness and generosity. He'd done nothing to deserve it, and at the moment couldn't even earn his keep. He would be sure to work harder when he recovered to make up for it. Things would be different this time, and he would give her his best.  
***  
“Are you sure you wanna be the one to bring it to him? It won’t be awkward?” Evelyn asked, peering up at the Black Knight. She wished he would take his helmet off and let her see his face, if only so that she could read his expression, but she knew he wouldn’t. There were too many chances that someone would happen upon them.

“It will be fine, Summoner. We will be forced to see each other eventually. It is best if we get it out of the way.” She liked his voice better when she could hear it as it really was. She didn’t care for the low growl the helmet turned it into. How did he even keep up with all the parts he had to play? Didn’t it get exhausting to be so many different people at once?

“Well if you say so. Just… be nice, okay? He’s probably still tired and this is bound to confuse him. I’ll be along shortly.” He nodded and accepted the parcel from her. “Tell him that’s a week’s worth of clothes. We can always get more as necessary, since we’ve got plenty of money stored up after Anna’s last scheme. She’s already planning something else, bless whoever gets roped into this one.”

“I refuse far in advance. I’ll not be putting on any ridiculous costumes.” Evelyn snickered, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Aw, c’mon hon. You’d look _cute_ in a bunny costume like Chrom’s and you know it.”

“Then let the other me do it. Now, excuse me.”

“I think yours should be pink! It’d look nice with that shiny hair of yours, pretty boy.” He didn’t respond, though his steps faltered momentarily. She knew most people would never even attempt to poke at him in such a way, but he had shown himself to have something of a sense of humor at least. He waved a dismissive hand behind him as he walked, and she smiled in spite of her worry and returned to fixing Zelgius’ plate. He would be happy to get something more filling than soup, she was sure.  
***  
Zelgius stared in disbelief at the man who had just walked through the door. Everything was as it had been three years ago, from the color of his cape, to his undamaged armor. He felt his stomach turn as he removed his helmet, revealing a face that he’d seen in mirrors all his life. They sat in silence, looking at each other in confusion and contempt.

“I brought your clothes, I trust mine worked well enough.” Zelgius winced at the sound of his voice. It was too strange to hear his own voice coming from his own mouth, but from across the room.

“ _How_ …?”

“Evelyn will show you how later, after you’ve eaten. I am more concerned with why _you_ are here. Your very existence is nothing but bothersome, you know why we keep our name and face secret.” Zelgius frowned, irritation bubbling within him. How dare he? This was supposed to be his chance for something different. Why was _he_ here?

“That won’t matter later, I assure you. It will end, and you will die.” He watched as his dopplegänger leaned against the door, scowling at him.

“You say that as if it were not our fate from the beginning. **You** should have accepted your death with more grace, coward.” Zelgius growled but could do nothing. He couldn’t fight even if he wanted to.

“How much do these people know?” He snapped, a panic building within him.

“All that they need to. I’ve told them nothing, but Ike? Ike has told them everything they need to know in order to despise you. They will know who you are and what you’ve done the moment you don that armor; and you will have no choice but to do it.” He seemed to take some kind of pleasure in seeing the color drain from his face. He pushed away from the door, plopping a parcel on the bed next to him, leaning down so that they were face to face. “There are no second chances. Your sins will follow you, no matter where you go. Live with them, or die for what little absolution it affords you.” Zelgius found his voice absent as he watched the other him stride away, returning his helm to his head. Zelgius didn’t hear the door close, but knew instinctively that he was alone again.

The sense of hope and renewed purpose he’d felt only hours ago was gone, replaced by a cold lump in his chest. This was supposed to be his second chance, a chance for something better. It had never been a possibility, it seemed. He was always meant to be alone and cast in shadow, only fit to use as a weapon. He sighed, expelling the feeling of sorrow with his breath. It was as it was meant to be. He would ensure that he was the best weapon she had in her arsenal, if nothing else, and he would keep to himself.

“Hey? You in there?” He jumped at the sound of her voice. She looked down at him, frowning slightly. “Sorry hon, I usually wouldn’t let myself in like this, but I’ve been calling you for a few minutes and you didn’t answer, so I was worried.” He blinked up at her in surprise, his eyes flickering across her face to the tray in her hand and back again before he fully understood what was happening.

“Forgive me. I was lost in thought.” She hummed, her brows crumpling.

“I can see that. Here, let’s get you fed and then we can take a little stroll. I’ve got things to show you and you’ve got people to meet.” He nodded and accepted the tray of food from her mechanically. She knew who he was. She _knew_. Why was she being so kind? “Sorry if seeing him startled you. I tried to talk him out of it and give you a few days to adjust, but well… you know how you are, you stubborn ass.”

“I… yes. I do apologize for my stubborness.” She chuckled, taking a seat beside him on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it by now, and so far you’re a lot less stubborn than he is. Why is that, I wonder?”

“...Time has passed. I am older, and less arrogant. People change.” He wanted to convince himself as much as her. He wanted to believe that he was different. He wanted to believe that he was better now than he was then, and that the version of him she’d known all this time was a younger and less agreeable one; but deep down he knew it wasn’t true. He was just as arrogant, just as bloodthirsty. He would never get away from it.

“That they do. Eat up before your eggs get cold. There’s nothing worse than cold eggs.” He chuffed quietly, almost amused that she seemed to care whether or not his food was warm. It didn’t matter as long as it kept him full. He’d been fed scraps on a dirty floor, cold eggs were nothing. “I wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs, so I just made them the way I like them. I hope they’re okay.” _She_ made his breakfast? Why would she waste her time in such a way when there were servants about? The eggs _were_ perfect, though.

“They’re good. Thank you.” She beamed, happier than she should be to have him compliment her. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t treat him so well. He didn’t want to experience the pain of her inevitable rejection when it came. Only his master hadn’t cast him aside. He should have stayed behind and let himself die. This wasn’t natural, to hell with what that voice had said. Better men than he had died and been given nothing but a funeral.

“You look better today. Still a little pale, though. You hurtin’? I can see about getting you some medicine if it will help you.”

“Don’t worry yourself over me. I will be fine, I assure you.” She huffed, falling quiet and crossing her arms. It was for the best if he severed whatever connection there was between them now. It didn’t belong to him… it was the other one that had reached this level of familiarity. She was simply projecting her comfort with the Black Knight onto him. He didn’t understand why she was comfortable with him, but it wasn’t his place to ask. Things happened in the heat of battle and the moments in between, when people could only talk to pass the time.

She sat beside him as he ate, swinging her leg slightly. He wanted her to talk again, but he knew it would only lead to him wanting to know her. He wanted her to laugh and smile and call him ‘hon.’ He wanted a friend or something akin to it, but that was selfish. He’d been taught long ago that selfish was the worst thing he could be.

“You finished eating, hon?” He nodded silently, allowing her to take his plate. “Well, let’s get your boots on and we’ll go. It’s time for me to really explain everything to you.” He didn’t care to understand anymore. It didn’t matter where he was, who he was fighting, or why. He had no right to ask questions.  
***  
“Here we are, where it all began for you. This is technically where we met.” He looked around the spacious room silently, trying to remember it. He didn’t remember anything beyond what he’d already told her, but part of him still wished to understand. She had done her best the night before, but there was really only so much words could convey. He winced as his knee wobbled slightly, but said nothing. He couldn’t allow himself to worry her further.

“This is where you summon us, I take it?” He asked, inspecting the odd stone in the center of the room. Something about it felt oddly familiar.

“Yep, this is it. That stone there is some kind of gate that opens when the proper payment is given and the catalyst activates it.” She pulled out an odd looking contraption, which he assumed was the catalyst. “I’m not sure exactly why it took this form, but I guess it’s just because it’s something I’m personally familiar with. Can’t expect someone to use a weapon they don’t understand.”

“That resembles a weapon from your world, I take it?” He felt apprehensive just looking at it.

“Yeah. I’ll be honest though, I prefer mine a little bigger.” She pulled five small stones from the pocket of her robe, dropping one into his hand. “Those little things are what I pay for y’all with. Honestly, I’d almost rather pay in blood or virgins or something, that’d be a lot easier to come by.” Zelgius couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from within his chest, she was so absurd at times. She grinned up at him, taking the stone back. “You have a nice laugh. I’d like to hear it more often. You’ve looked so sad today.” He cleared his throat, looking away as she loaded the stones into her weapon. He prayed she didn’t notice how his ears blushed.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m simply overwhelmed, I suppose.” Sad, too. Sad because the first thing he’d wanted that didn’t involve bloodshed had been taken from him before he even knew it was an option.

“Well, you can’t expect me not to worry about you, Zelgius. You’re the first person to actually answer me in months and damn if we don’t need you. You’re something special, I think.” He wanted to correct her, but he felt that it would be cruel. She had the weight of expectations upon her and she needed to believe that he could be of use, just like he did. “Well, let’s see if my luck has changed now that you’re here, shall we? Maybe someone else will show up and Anna will get off my back.”  
***  
Evelyn grumbled beside him as he limped back towards his room, too tired to do much other than lay in bed. No one had come and she was clearly frustrated, though he found her irritation to be rather endearing in a way.

“Well, that didn’t work out the way I’d hoped, but hopefully everything makes a little more sense for you.” She said, reaching out to open the door for him.

“It does, yes. Thank you, Evelyn.” He felt better, if only just a little. He was still expecting rejection, but he felt as though he could take it when it came. The situation didn’t feel as hopeless as it had, and if she was going to continue to treat him so cordially, even knowing what she knew, then perhaps the things he’d done in the past mattered less to her than what he would do now. He could respect that.

“I’m glad. It’s good to see you perking up a little. I was getting a little concerned earlier.” He sighed, settling down onto the bed as she knelt to remove his boots. He wanted to stop her, but knew she would ignore him.

“I feel better now. You’ve assuaged my worries.” And she had, even if she’d done so inadvertently. He would heal, and he would be helpful. That was all he needed.

“Good. Get some rest now. You can’t heal up if you don’t. I’ll be bringing your lunch around in a bit. Some books, too. You’re gonna get bored, I’ll bet.” He lay back onto his pillows, frowning up at her.

“You needn’t waste so much energy on me. Let a servant do it, I will be fine. You’ve got more than enough to do.” She huffed and leaned over him, her hazel eyes boring into his.

“You. Aren’t. A. Waste. Of. Time.” She said it so emphatically that he couldn’t ignore her if he wanted to, and she was so close he could feel the warmth radiating off of her. It somehow managed to be both cloying and wonderful simultaneously. “You knightly types and your damn fool sense of expendability. You and Seth are gonna get along great, I can already tell.” She pulled away, taking her warmth and scent with her. “I’ll see you in a bit, hon. Take a nap or whatever it is that you need to do while I’m gone.” She called him stubborn, but it seemed she was unaware of her own bullheadedness.

“Very well, then. Do as you wish.”

“I always do.” Or perhaps not. She was well aware that she was impossible and reveled in his inability to stop her. She would spend time on him whether he wanted her to or not, and it would be up to him to ensure they didn’t grow close.


	3. A New Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sense of peace is shattered as the enemy makes a move, and Zelgius meets someone who makes him question everything he knew about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After two days of having a headache, I finally managed to get this edited. It's not quite as long as the last one, but hopefully it'll be enough to keep y'all entertained while I work on chapter four. 
> 
> I've had a few people approach me both here and on Tumblr about the possibility of a series of shorts, and I'm not averse to doing it. If you guys would like to see me write some comedic short stories that take place sort of in between the events of the story proper, let me know. I can't say I'd update that often, but it could be fun regardless and would let me feel like I'm still doing something, even if I'm having trouble writing at the time.

“You’re healing fast. That’s good. These are almost ready to come out.” Lissa said, checking his stitches before moving to take a look at his knee. It didn’t hurt quite as bad as it had before, but he still found himself unable to walk long distances without his cane. “Does anything feel off?” Zelgius shook his head, mentally preparing himself for what came next. Lissa raised her staff, murmuring an incantation under her breath. He’d never reacted well to extended exposure to magic, and just as he had the past several times since his arrival, he knew he would find himself feeling drained and nauseous. He was fairly sure he’d never slept so much in his life and two weeks of forced idleness had a significant impact on his morale. He prayed that he would recover before it began to take a serious toll on his body as well. “Okay, all done with that. Here, drink this. It’ll help with the icky feeling.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He accepted the small dose of medicine from her, just barely keeping his distaste from showing on his face. It was incredibly bitter.

“Okay Zelgius, everything’s looking good. I think we’re done for the day. Do you need anything for the aches?”

“No, thank you. I believe I can manage without.” It was awkward to be alone in the infirmary with her. Lissa had been one of the healers responsible for caring for him when he arrived and knew the truth. Other members of the order seemed largely unaware for the time being, but those that knew tended to avoid him; or at the very least, it felt as if they did. He didn’t blame them, of course. He’d earned his reputation through years of violence, after all. The best thing he could do for himself was live as he always had and keep to himself. This was the most interaction he’d allowed himself in the past three days.

“Can I ask you a question?” He was startled by Lissa’s voice but managed to hide the way he jumped as he hauled himself to his feet.

“You may.” What could she possibly want to ask him?

“Do you think we can actually beat Surtr?” This was a surprising question. He’d only heard of the man and had yet to actually see him in action, though he admitted that the idea of it excited him far less than it would have before. If anything, he felt weary. He’d thought he’d finally get to rest his blade, having done all that he could to keep Gawain’s legacy alive and served his purpose as best as he was able; but Lissa was so young and sounded so afraid. She had seen the horrors that man had brought upon innocent people and wanted to see him fall.

“Surtr is guarded by a ward, yes?” She nodded, crossing her arms in such a way as to hold herself. “Magic, as you well know, wears off eventually. Whether through time, its limitations, or his own hubris, this ward will fail; and when it does, we will put him down. No matter how strong, a man is no more than that.” Lissa sighed, a small smile forming on her face.

“Is that what happened to you?” He chuckled dryly, leaning more heavily on his cane.

“Indeed. My armor’s blessing is long gone. Is that what made you ask me?”

“Kind of, I guess. I thought you might know better than someone else.” She met his eyes straightening her back, her mood shifting from dour to something more hopeful. “Thanks, Zelgius. I feel better now.”

“You’re welcome.” It felt good to slide into a familiar role. He'd found that he'd genuinely enjoyed his time as a general and all the responsibility that came with it. He hoped that his knowledge would be of use here.

“Oh shoot! I almost forgot. Evelyn wanted me to tell you to meet her in the courtyard after lunch. I'm not sure what for.” He nodded, guilt lancing through him. He'd been avoiding her as best he could for days, hoping that she would simply grow tired of his difficult nature.

“Very well. Have a pleasant afternoon, Lady Lissa.” What could Evelyn want from him at such a time? He was hardly capable of guarding her at the moment, though he would do this best if she were to ask.  
***  
“You called for me, my lady?” Evelyn turned to face him, a smile spreading across her face. He ignored the way his heart seemed to flutter, but found it impossible to deny that she was even lovelier in the sunlight.

“I did. How's that leg feeling, hon?” Zelgius glanced down at his left leg, bending it slightly. It still hurt, but the pain had become far more manageable.

“Better, though only a bit.” She hummed and came to stand at his right side.

“Well, I think you could do with some sun and fresh air. You've been cooped up inside for a while and I can tell it's gettin’ to you. Walk with me a little.”

“If that is your wish.” Evelyn frowned as she slipped her arm around his, pulling it close. It had been a very long time since he'd walked with a lady on his arm, and longer still since he'd done it in such a casual setting.

“So, what have you been up to, hon? You've been making yourself awful scarce these past few days.” Her tone was free of judgement, though he still felt guilty.

“In truth, I've done nothing. The healer’s treatment tends to leave me feeling a bit ill, so I’ve been resting.” Evelyn hummed again, patting his hand gently.

“They did mention that some people don’t react well to it. I guess it's good that we aren't out in the field right now. Can you deal with it in smaller doses?” He nodded, adjusting their arms.

“Yes, it's only when I'm exposed to it for longer periods of time that it affects me so. It will always leave me feeling a bit weak, I’m afraid.”

“I see. Do we need to sit down, are you okay?” Zelgius shook his head, smiling softly in spite of himself.

“No, my lady. I'll be fine.” Evelyn looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, as though trying to catch him in a lie. “I will say something if I begin to feel tired. Is this acceptable?”

“I'll take it. Come on then, let's get you a little exercise.” He allowed himself to be lead along down the cobblestone path, focusing more on his footing rather than anything else that was ahead of them, but Evelyn seemed content to simply leave him to it. She was oddly quiet herself; almost pensively so, as if she were lost in thought. He wasn’t terribly surprised that she was troubled by recent events, this was likely just as much for her as it was for him.

It was a lovely day out. He took a deep breath as a breeze swept over the grounds, carrying the scent of earth and grass with it, mingling with the scent of Evelyn’s perfume. He forced himself to ignore the pleasant lightheadedness that came with her nearness, instead turning his thoughts towards the yard and which tree would be best for reading under. She'd found him several classic novels from her world, which while he was unsure of the geography and much of their cultural significance, were fascinating.

He hadn’t had much time to read in recent years. His master had much for him to do, and he’d not gotten to go home often. His peers often remarked that he always seemed busy, dedicated; but he would never get to tell them the truth. Sigrun and Tanith were the only ones who didn’t bother heaping praise upon him. He’d appreciated their more tempered approach to their professional relationships. He wondered if they could have been friends, had things been different; if **he** had been different.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, hon? You look sad.” Zelgius met her gaze, feeling calm for the first time since meeting his twin.

“Forgive me, I’ve simply never had so much free time before, so I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. It gives me too much time to ponder things I no longer have control over.” Evelyn chuckled and squeezed his arm, allowing her head to bump softly against it.

“Oh, that’s right. You were a general before all this, weren’t you?” Zelgius hummed, letting his eyes wander across the scenery before him. His duties as a general certainly kept him busy, but not nearly as busy as the dual life he lead.

“I was. I served as general of Begnion’s central army, under direct supervision of the Prime Minister.” He felt odd speaking of his old master. He’d expected that his loyalty would still belong to him alone, but it seemed the contract binding him was far stronger… or perhaps it was just yet another change within him. Perhaps he was more fickle than he’d thought.

“That’s just one more thing that’s going to make you invaluable. You have knowledge a lot of these folks don’t. People like Marth or Eirika inspire confidence and keep morale up, but it’s people like you that have the actual knowledge about running an army.” Zelgius couldn’t deny that. He’d seen and heard plenty to know by now that while there were many talented warriors about with plenty of knowledge when it came to fighting, few seemed to know quite as much about the more mundane, bureaucratic functions of the military. Just thinking of all the paperwork made his head hurt, and yet, he found himself almost missing it. He wondered if the others felt the same.

“I will ensure I do not let you down.” Evelyn hummed in response, squeezing his arm once more.

“You won’t, hon. So just do your best and don’t overdo it. I _want_ to see y’all healthy and safe just as much I need you to be.” He smiled softly, it was becoming easier to do so.

“Evelyn!” His reply died on his tongue as the princess of Askr came trotting up the path towards them, her expression fretful.

“Sharena? What’s wrong?” All levity and humor fled her as she released his arm, stepping forward.

“Something’s happened. We don’t know all the details yet, but a runner just arrived from a village to the north.” Evelyn folded her arms behind her back, the gesture so oddly familiar and militant that Zelgius found himself wondering if she had more history with war than he’d thought.

“Well, let’s go then. C’mon hon.” It made sense that she would want him to come along. While it was true he would be unable to fight, he could still assist in more routine ways, and would need to be kept abreast of the situation in order to do so. “Sharena, have someone fetch Robin and have Seth get his men kitted up and on standby before joining us. Zelgius,” he found himself snapping to attention at the authoritative tone of her voice. “Once we know exactly what we’re dealing with, I want you in charge of the forces we leave behind. They’re bound to attack here eventually and I want someone experienced at the helm.”

“Of course, my lady.” He marvelled at the difference in her. She’d been soft before, now she was all iron. That duality only made her more intriguing to him; before he’d worried that her duty would grow to be too much for her, but he saw that she had far more grit than he’d given her credit for. Serving her would make him proud.  
***  
The man was ashen faced, smudged with soot and shaking; eyes wild and hollow. Zelgius had seen this look many times, both in his enemies and allies. He felt sympathy for him. He was young, far too young to have seen the horrors he was likely about to describe. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of burned hair wafting off him. Seth shifted beside him, meeting his eyes in understanding. This young man would never be the same, and they both knew it.

“Go on, honey. Tell us what happened.” Evelyn’s tone was soft, coaxing the boy to speak. He took several deep breaths, coughing before he began to speak, his voice shaking.

“It was… it was Múspell, My Lady. They attacked out of nowhere… there were flames, people screaming. Gods the smell. _The smell_!” Zelgius watched as he grew paler, covering his mouth briefly before attempting to continue. He needed to act quickly before the boy spewed his last meal all over Evelyn’s robes. He limped his way towards the nearest window, throwing it open. The young soldier wasted no time in taking advantage, flinging himself halfway out of it. Zelgius leaned away to escape the smell of vomit while the others waited patiently for him to finish. This was something that they’d all seen before and would surely see again.

Anna poured him a glass of water as he returned to them, apologizing shakily. They remained quiet as he gathered his thoughts once more, breathing deeply.

“Forgive me.”

“It’s fine, but please continue. Was Surtr there?” Robin asked, coming to stand beside Evelyn. Seeing the two side by side made Zelgius realize just how slight the summoner was. Robin was hardly a tall or bulky man, but he still stood half a head taller than her. Was it comical to see him beside her? He’d known that he dwarfed her, but he’d thought little of it until this moment.

“Y-yes. He was there. Like a demon he was. Huge and invulnerable, we couldn’t get near.”

“You say you were attached to King Gustav’s defense force?” Evelyn asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes, my lady.” She nodded, once again folding her hands behind her back.

“How many survivors are there?” The soldier shrugged, shaking his head.

“A handful, maybe. They sent me, I was the least injured.”

“This village is long gone now unfortunately, there’s not much we can do for it. Did you catch a glimpse of which way they were headed? We might still be able to head them off before they reach the next.” Anna said, rising to her feet once more.

“North it seemed. They’re marching on towards Nifl.” Princess Fjorm stood and began to pace, her expression one of pure misery. Zelgius knew very little about her, but he had no doubt this news was distressing for her.

Robin and Evelyn peered down at the map spread out on the table, speaking quietly between themselves as they tried to predict the most likely places the enemy would strike next. Seth crossed his arms and leaned in slightly, his voice low.

“I don’t trust this boy. This is all too convenient.” Zelgius hummed, watching the soldier before them. He’d gotten the same feeling.

“Nor do I. He smells oddly of magic. I noticed it a few moments ago.” While he hardly had the sense of smell of his laguz ancestors, his familiarity with magic and its scent allowed him to pick up on it more easily than most. From across the room, Robin cast a glance their way, his eyes trailing towards the soldier and back again. It seemed they were all in agreement: something was wrong. He watched as the tactician leaned in to whisper something to Evelyn who nodded. Zelgius relaxed as she straightened, turning to face them once more, her arms folded across her chest.

“So… what are you _actually_ here for, Loki?” Evelyn pulled her weapon from her robe, tapping it gently against her thigh. Her posture was relaxed, but he could see that she was on edge. The soldier chuckled, his voice distorting and changing as his form did the same.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you all to catch on.” Where once had been a young man was now a woman, flicking her long auburn hair over her shoulder, smiling in false sweetness. “I’m here to see you of course!” Evelyn frowned, her eyebrow arching in obvious annoyance.

“And why; pray tell, might you be doing that?”

“Well, what I told you was the truth, dear. My King _has_ burned down one of your little villages, and we _are_ still marching north. I thought you’d like to know!” Loki simpered, looking far too pleased with herself for comfort.

“Why should we believe a word that comes out of that mouth of yours? Talk sense before I lose my temper.” Evelyn snapped.

“Oh but I **am**. If I hadn’t said something, it could have been days before news reached you! It’s no fun if you don’t struggle, my dear. Surtr’s victory is assured, but I can’t let it be so easy for him. I get bored if there is no conflict, no chaos! Playing with you is the most fun I’ve had in years. I’m not ready for it to end.”

“Where is he, Loki?!” Alfonse strode forward, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. The woman glanced his way, her expression one of dull disinterest.

“Oh come now, boy. It’s rude to simply draw your sword on a lady without asking first.” Evelyn gestured to the prince to stop, turning her attention back to their guest.

“Loki. I won’t take anything you say at face value, but I do believe that you’re telling at least half of the truth. Now. I need to know just one thing from you.” Evelyn’s tone was cautious, her gaze firm.

“And what might that be?” Loki asked, toying idly with a lock of hair.

“Were there any survivors?”

“A handful of frightened little peasants, perhaps. Every soldier we came across is naught but ash now. Rather filthy business, really.” Evelyn grit her teeth, her fists clenching at her side.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” Evelyn fired a shot in Loki’s direction, frowning in dissatisfaction as the woman cackled and disappeared in a flash of light, the blast from Breidablik chipping stone from the wall, a small shard skidding across the floor before stopping near her foot. “Well wasn't that sweet of her? Bless her heart.” Evelyn’s tone was chilly, the familiar phrase sounding more threatening than kind.

“So now what?” Sharena asked, glancing around the room.

“We try to head them off. We can’t let them go unchecked.” Anna’s tone was firm, her expression serious. “Evelyn, what are you thoughts?”

“If they don’t have a force waiting for us here:” she indicated a ravine on the map, tracing the northern road with her finger, “I’ll be real surprised. They’re gonna expect us to take the path of least resistance and there’s not much we can do about it. What we propose is trying to split their forces up. Seth, you and your men are best suited to this. This ravine here is our best bet given the surrounding terrain; if they don't split up to stop you, they'll end up caught between us. Now, chances are they know this already; so you should go ahead and assume they’ll be expecting us to try it. No matter how we look at it, this ain’t gonna be any fun for any of us, but there’s really not much choice. We don’t have time to waste looking for a way to get in front of them when they’re already so far ahead.”

“Do you really think they’d leave troops behind just to slow us down? They’ve already gotten a sizable lead on us.” Alfonse said, chewing his lip in worry. Evelyn shook her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“We can’t know for sure until we get there, but we might as well assume they will. We need to leave soon. Robin, you’ll stay behind with Zelgius. Help him keep this place in order.”

“Understood.” Evelyn nodded, folding her arms behind her back once more, her weariness showing on her face.

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”  
***  
Zelgius groaned as he took a seat near the window, the library almost eerie now that there were so few people about. There was little for him to do for the time being, and so he stared out the window, watching the horizon for any sign of distress. They had done all they could to ensure the safety of the castle and all guards were on high alert, but he found himself unable to relax. Normally, he would be able to settle in and play the waiting game. This was common in wartime, and as a general he’d done it plenty of times. He had a skilled strategist ready to lend his help and strong, well trained troops; not to mention the other warriors who were summoned like himself. They had little to worry about, so why could he not stop?

Was it because Evelyn was gone from his sight? She was not alone. She had strong and devoted guards, and loath as he was to admit it, he was useless to her in his current state. This was the best thing he could do to help her. He would grudgingly rely on his counterpart to keep her safe.

Perhaps it was best if she were away for a time. Having her so close that afternoon had made him feel far too content, the warmth of her body pressed against his arm filling him with a strange sense of completeness he’d never experienced before. He needed to stamp it out before it could consume him. He sighed and shook his head. He’d spent so long alone that even small gestures and common kindness felt like grand overtures. He knew better than to think that he could be special to her, that any of the warmth she shared with him belonged to him alone. He hated the childish part of him that still yearned for love. He was far too old to hold onto such foolish notions.

Zelgius’ thoughts ground to a halt as he heard to door open, but was glad to see that it wasn’t Robin who entered. He’d seen this young lass several times since his arrival. She was always buzzing around, helping where she could. Her energy was endearing, if a bit exhausting to watch. He watched as she peered up at the shelves, clearly searching for something to occupy herself with. She seemed to decide on one, but her expression fell as she found herself unable to reach it.

“Do you need help, young lady?” The girl yelped, looking around herself wildly before spotting him. He was used to startling people. Despite his size, he somehow managed to sneak up on nearly everyone. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He pushed himself up, leaning on his cane as he made his way towards her.

“I-it’s okay! I just didn’t see you there, that’s all. Um…? You’re the new guy, right?” Zelgius nodded, coming to stand beside her. “I’m Nino! It’s nice to meet you!” Zelgius smiled and shook her offered hand, careful not to squeeze too hard. She really was a tiny thing.

“Zelgius. It’s lovely to meet you, Nino. Now then, which book are you wanting?” He asked, glancing at the shelf. There were some even he wouldn’t be able to get without a stool, but most were well within reach.

“O-oh… um… it’s that one, with the blue cover.” Zelgius found which one she meant easily, though he had to wonder why she would want a dictionary, and yet had no other book with her.

“I see. Very well then.” He took the dusty tome from the shelf and passed it down, watching as she scurried off towards a table nearby, her face burning red.

He returned to his place by the window, once more looking out into the growing darkness. Nino was quiet and her presence was pleasant enough. It hurt nothing to allow her to do whatever it was that she was doing. Far be it from him to stop a child from broadening her horizons. From what he understood, it was especially important for a mage such as her to be well read. He jumped when he heard her groan miserably behind him, turning just in time to see her let her head fall into her hands.

“Nino? Are you well?” The girl looked up, clearly embarrassed, but he didn’t miss the frustrated tears in her eyes.

“Sorry, am I bothering you? I know you’re probably doing something important right now.” Zelgius shook his head, frowning slightly.

“Hardly. Much of our duty here involves waiting for trouble to find us. What bothers you so?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? You’re technically my commander now, aren’t you?” Zelgius shrugged and heaved himself up once more, limping towards her.

“I have an open door policy. Part of my job here is listening to the grievances of my subordinates and finding solutions. What’s on your mind?” Nino fiddled with the pages of the book, her reply coming out as a mumble. “I’m sorry? Could you repeat that, please?” Zelgius leaned closer, trying to catch what she was saying.

“--embarrassing.”

“Nino, I cannot help if I cannot hear you.” The girl groaned in irritation before forcing herself to meet his gaze, her face ruddy.

“I said ‘I don’t know how to read and it’s embarrassing!’” Zelgius nodded, easing himself into one of the many chairs at the table.

“I see. You’ve no need to be ashamed. I didn’t know how to read myself until I was a little older than you. It is more common than you may imagine.” She perked up a little upon hearing that, a look of hopefulness in her eyes.

“Who taught you? Evelyn tries, but she doesn’t have a lot of free time…” Zelgius surprised himself in answering her questions. He tried very hard not to think of those days.

“It was my commander. He taught me many things during my time with him.” He ignored the cold lump of regret in his gut. What was done was done.

“So that means I should still be able to learn right?” He nodded, reaching out to close the dictionary.

“Of course, but you’re going about it the wrong way. You must learn the basics before you can do anything else, reading is like everything else in life. You must crawl before you can walk.” She nodded in understanding, looking thoughtful. “Go fetch a roll of parchment, ink and quill from that desk. I have time yet.” He was surprised by himself. Of all the things he expected to do in his life, teaching a child to read was low on the list. He was more surprised still that he wanted to do it. Nino wasted no time in procuring the items, bringing them back to the table where he sat. He took the dictionary and placed it in a chair nearby to protect it from any mishaps with the ink.

“Okay, I’m back. What now?” Zelgius smiled at her enthusiasm and unrolled the paper, dipping the quill in the ink. He needed to ascertain what she already knew before continuing.

“What has Evelyn taught you?”

“She taught me the alphabet not too long ago, and how they all sound, but we didn’t get much further than that. She’s been really busy.” He thought back to how Gawain had taught him and nodded to himself, writing a few simple words on the paper. He’d not written in print in a very long time, but one who was illiterate would likely struggle to read cursive.

“Very well then. We will start with simple vocabulary. I realize this may feel a bit patronizing, but I have to see how well you grasp the fundamentals before we move on.” Nino nodded looking at the words he’d written. “Now then, sound out the words if you would.” He waited patiently as Nino took a deep breath, mouthing the letters to herself before doing as he asked.

“Cat.” He nodded, offering her a smile.

“Very good. And this one?” She smiled back, her confidence bolstered.

“Dog.”

“Next one.”

“Pen.” Word after word was simple for the girl and he found himself feeling a modicum of pride. She would be a far quicker study than he had been.

“Now we’re going to move into more difficult words. They have more letters, but still only one syllable. Now then, from the top, if you will.”  
***  
“Thank you, Zelgius! I had fun.” Nino said, taking the papers from him to dispose of them. It had grown dark and it was time for them to settle in for the night. “Do you think we can do it again tomorrow?”

“Provided nothing gets in the way, I don’t see why not. I will try to find a book for us to work on.” Her face lit up, her smile beaming. He could hardly remember making anyone that happy. He liked it. It was far more pleasant than tears and looks of pain or grief.

“Really?! You promise?”

“I promise that if all is peaceful tomorrow, I will continue our lesson. Now, you should get yourself to bed. It’s getting late, Nino. Young ladies like yourself need your rest.” He said, closing the library door behind them. She nodded enthusiastically, holding one of his hands in both of hers, shaking it up and down as though they were sealing some kind of pact.

“Okay! Goodnight, Zelgius! Thanks again!”

“Goodnight.” He grinned unabashedly as he watched her trot down the hall, that boundless energy present even at night. She was nothing like he had been at her age. Gawain had more to teach him than reading.

“So… teaching Nino to read?” His smile slipped as Robin approached. Zelgius glanced down at the tactician, noting the ink smudged on his fingers and cheek.

“Indeed. It is important that she know how.” How was it that a man like Robin hadn’t already begun to do so?

“Yes, that’s true. Magic does require a lot of it. I honestly didn’t know she couldn’t until fairly recently, but I didn’t want to press her. She was clearly embarrassed about it.”

“Sometimes we must press if we want to help. The seed does not sprout without assistance from the rain.” Zelgius said. Robin smiled, playfully nudging his arm.

“You got me there. I’m surprised though. I never expected you to be so helpful when it came to more personal things like this. The other one is certainly a lot less personable.” Zelgius sighed, wishing he could cross his arms without sacrificing the use of his cane. Covering his chest would make him feel less exposed.

“So you knew, did you?” Robin shrugged, his smile slipping into something more neutral.

“What can I say, I’m perceptive. I have to be in my line of work.”

“I see.” Zelgius leaned away slightly, the comfort and confidence he’d felt during his time with Nino dissipating. It would all end soon, he was being foolish letting himself mingle. He was only setting himself up for pain.

“It’s none of our business, you know? Sure we know Ike’s side of the story, but we have no clue what was actually going on. He doesn’t know why you did what you did and neither do we. And it’s not our concern. All I really care about is that you do what you’re meant to and that you treat your comrades appropriately. It’s not my place to judge you.” How typical of a tactician. It was easy for him to remain objective in this since it didn’t concern him directly.

“Very well then. If you will not treat me differently, even knowing what you know, then I shall return the favor.” Robin nodded, gesturing for him to follow.

“I don’t know much about you, Zelgius. No one really does, but I get the feeling that you’re not a bad person.” Zelgius scoffed and fell into step beside him, staring ahead.

“Then you’re a worse judge of character than I expected.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re not as bad as you think. It’ll be interesting to see, I think.”  
***  
Robin was a ridiculous little man. He knew nothing about him, nothing about the terrible things he’d done, and yet he wanted to believe that there was good in him somewhere? Helping a child learn to read was not a high bar to step over. Nino was a mage, one that was there to protect the castle while Evelyn and the others were gone. It made sense to teach her so that she could perform her duties more effectively. He could act kind all day, that didn’t make it so.

Why did he agree to continue teaching her? He wasn’t meant for such a gentle art. He was meant to maim and slaughter, there was no room for kindness in that. The warmth he felt when she smiled and looked proud of her accomplishment was dangerous. It distracted him from his purpose. He should have ignored her. He should have refused to teach her, to share his time. He was not her father, nor would he ever be anyone’s. Why would he even want to be? He’d be a terrible father… all his ever taught him was how to be afraid and his mother only ever reminded him that he was filth, a mongrel. Why would he want to allow his filthy blood to curse another child, sometime later down the line?

He lay down and turned down his lamp, casting his room in darkness. All of this thinking was doing nothing for him. Why did it matter why he did anything? If it kept those around him from making his duties impossible, then it was fine. Redemption was out of his reach, a fresh start impossible, but he could be useful. Sensible people didn’t discard that which they could use, and he would ensure that it remained that way. As long as he had a role to fill, he would have a reason to carry on. If not, then his life was forfeit. 


	4. Evelyn's Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling desperate to make progress against the seemingly unstoppable Surtr, Evelyn devises a risky plan in hopes of slowing him down. Things get messier and more complicated than she anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you have a comfy chair, this one is really long.

She gripped her reins tightly, trying to ignore the sense of overwhelming dread growing in her gut. Anything could happen while they were out in the open, and no amount of preparation or care could stop it if fate dictated that it was time for luck to run out. Any one of them could die in an instant, and her ability to revive them was limited. If she did it too often, she’d be the one needing it. She stifled a yawn and shifted in her saddle, hoping no one noticed how she seemed to droop with tiredness. She’d had a strange dream the night before--it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, though she couldn’t say she enjoyed having a stranger speaking with her in such an intimate way. She’d asked Fjorm about it the first time it happened, rendering the girl speechless and red in the face for a few moments before she could explain.

‘My big sister has the ability to speak with someone in that way, but only one person. She must have had a reason for choosing you.’ Evelyn frowned, her brows crumpling. She would be sure to speak with  Gunnthrá  when they met face to face. Such an ability was useful, but she wasn’t sure it was wise to use it on her. Eventually, she’d end up letting them all down, it was simply the way of the world. No one could be right all the time, and she certainly was no exception; and when she and the other tacticians got something wrong, the consequences would be catastrophic.

“You shouldn’t make such a face, dear. You’re going to give yourself wrinkles!” Evelyn looked up to smile reassuringly at Sonya, forcing herself to sit up a little straighter in the saddle.

“Sorry about that, hon. I let my mind wander.” Evelyn murmured. Sonya frowned, urging her mount closer. Evelyn met her gaze evenly, she keeping her smile firmly in place.

“It wandered somewhere it shouldn’t have by the looks of things. Are you still not resting enough?” Evelyn sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. It was becoming harder and harder to hide her exhaustion from those around her, but if she didn’t take up these responsibilities, then who would?

“Maybe not, but now’s not the time for that. I’ll have to wait.” Evelyn hissed, trying to keep this conversation between them. It was best if she kept others as ignorant as possible.

“Rest is important, Evelyn. You have to sleep. Both your body and mind need it!” Sonya shot back, her expression exasperated. “I’ll stay with you if I must, but you’re going to bed early tonight.”

The flapping of wings interrupted their whispered conversation as Minerva and Beruka returned from scouting the road ahead. Their faces told them all they needed to know: she and Robin had been correct in their thinking and they would need to prepare themselves for a fight.

“How bad is it?” She asked, spurring her horse forward.

“It’s a small force, close in number to our own; a few hundred perhaps.” Minerva said, patting her mount’s neck. Evelyn nodded, chewing her lip.

“Okay, we carry on with our original plan for now. Seth!” The general snapped to attention in his saddle, auburn eyes focused and clear. She hated admitting that the man never seemed more alive than in moments like these.

“You head in first. The quicker we drive a wedge between them, the better. Siegbert--” The young prince shifted nervously, alert and ready for his orders. She had been surprised that he’d joined them so easily, given his devotion to his father; but he’d more than earned his keep and her trust. “You and your men will take the left. When you break through, circle back and hit them again. We’ll all be right behind you so don’t push too far ahead.”

“Y-yes, My Lady.” With luck, this would prove to be as routine as these skirmishes often were, and they could move on to the next battle. She didn’t doubt that they had more of these roadblocks ahead of them, and she could only hope that King Gustav’s forces could halt the main force’s progress. If they could lock them down for a while, then maybe they’d have a chance.

“Okay gentlemen, get to it.”

As much as she hated fighting, she had to admit that there was little more exciting than watching skilled cavalry at work. The thundering of hooves, the clatter of armor and the swirling clouds of dust almost reminded her of home, of getting to watch one of the horses she helped raise gallop around the dirt track as ladies in their wide brimmed hats and gentlemen in suits sipped their drinks and placed their bets. She’d never gotten to actually watch the races from the stands, she was too common for that; but it was enough just to see it from the sidelines.

Anna ordered their charge, sending them into the fray in the cavalry’s wake. Evelyn allowed herself to hang back, as she was supposed to. It was easier for her to gather information and provide tactical support if she weren’t in the thick of it. From above, she heard a wyvern screech, telling her Michalis was nearby; just as he always was in this kind of situation, but he was never nearer than the Black Knight.

She forced her eyes to follow the action in front of her, squinting through the bright light that bounced off Alondite’s blade. In the distance, she could see Siegbert’s forces doubling back for a second attack and Seth’s troops attempting to force their pursuers to choose between following them into the ravine in hopes of stopping them or turning around to attempt to stop the others from tearing their comrades apart. Everything was going according to plan, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. She felt as though there were eyes upon her, but she couldn’t place where it was coming from.

“You seem uneasy, Summoner.” Evelyn looked down at her guardian, meeting his gaze steadily.

“I get the feeling we ain’t alone. What about you?” He nodded silently and returned to watching their surroundings, both of them straining their ears to catch anything out of the ordinary.

Evelyn yelped as something stung across her cheek, pulling her horse to the side as it began to panic. She looked over her shoulder and found a throwing knife embedded in the dirt, her attention snapping back towards the front as she heard another clatter against armor. Their company finally decided to join them in the open, his emerald hair tousled by the wind. It seemed that Princess Veronica was still in Surtr’s pocket and lending him heroes.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, but I have a contract with Embla. We can’t go home until it’s broken.” Evelyn admired his forthrightness at least. She was used to it by now, though. Most of these people didn’t want to fight for Embla, but it was impossible for them to ignore their contract and terrible things happened if they tried.

“Well try to get through to me, boy.” Evelyn said, maneuvering her horse to stand more solidly behind the broad shoulders of her protector. “But I can’t waste no time on you.”

“Why are  _ you  _ here?” The young man asked, his gold eyes narrowing as they landed on the man before him.

“I’m sorry, have we met? I tend not to remember every urchin that crosses my path.” Zelgius’ tone was cool and assured, just shy of cocky. The young man wasted no time launching himself into the fight, his movements fluid and precise. He was quick and if he were fighting almost anyone else, he may have managed to slip around his slower, bulkier opponent, but Zelgius was not such an easy foe to fool.

“Kill anyone else’s father recently?” Evelyn frowned, watching the fight before her. The newcomer seemed to know Zelgius somehow, though it was always hard to say who knew who and how in these situations. The Black Knight didn’t respond to his taunting, simply holding his blade at the ready. She’d seen him take this more defensive approach several times and knew that it wouldn’t be long now. Skilled though he was, a knife was no match for a veteran soldier in plate armor.

Quick as a whip, the young man feinted left before scurrying through Zelgius’ legs, using his slender frame and long legs to his advantage as he attempted to launch himself towards her. Evelyn knew she wouldn’t have time to react if her guardian didn’t catch him, but she worried little. She watched as her would be assailant was struck by a beam of bluish light, the force sending him flying several feet away, winded and wincing in pain.

“There now, why don’t you retreat for now, hon? We’ll break that contract for you, but we’re busy right now.” Evelyn frowned, watching as he struggled to his feet. Zelgius always overdid it in these moments. “Run along now.”

She watched as the boy retreated, following after the scattered  Múspell forces. This was almost disturbingly easy. There was no challenge and they had broken their lines with little effort. They had to be planning something and had used these men as a means to buy themselves time. She had no doubt that there would be more conflict on the road ahead; but for now they needed to regroup and push ahead. They had to do something, or else things would only get worse.

***

Evelyn watched as rain splattered on the ground, the icy droplets gathering in the muddy footprints of her comrades as they went about their duties. She was only vaguely aware of the way the rain soaked through her robes, leaving them stuck to her shoulders and hair. It was a miserable day through and through and she missed the warmth and comfort of the castle. Was everyone okay? Were they minding Zelgius’ orders and treating him with the respect his rank demanded? Was he doing okay there? He’d been lost in his own thoughts often since they’d met and seemed sad and distant. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to feel that way after being gone for a long time. She’d seen that same look in her brother’s eyes many times, and sometimes it greeted her in the morning, before she could plaster a smile on her face and pretend that everything was okay.

She treasured the quiet moments between battles. It was good to remember that life could be more than senseless violence. It had been the same back then, as well; though the clatter of armor was replaced by the hum of helicopter blades slicing through the air and the rattle of ammunition crates. Regardless of the place and time, though, she still found war to be just as pointless; but damn if it didn’t pay the bills.

“Summoner?” She jumped as she heard a familiar voice behind her, surprised to find a red cloak draped around her shoulders. “It’s cold, you’re going to catch your death out here. Get inside.” She offered him a weak wobble of her lips as she allowed him to usher her into her tent, not bothering to argue with him like she normally would.

“Thanks, hon.” He inclined his head as they stepped through the flap of her tent, and she found herself relieved as he removed his helm, shaking his head in an attempt to right his hair.

“For?”

“Looking out for me. I probably would have stood out there until supper time if you didn’t do something.” She shrugged out of her damp robe and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders as she took a seat on her cot.

“It is my duty to do so. Here, you are my commanding officer. I would be remiss to allow something to happen to you.” She rolled her eyes and allowed herself to smile at him. She’d never in a million years expected a general  to call her his ‘commanding officer.’

“Sure. Or you could just say ‘you’re welcome’ like a normal person.” He huffed and placed his helm on the small folding table before allowing his gauntlets to join it. This was the second time she’d seen him in less than his full kit, and she was too tired to even appreciate the trust he was showing her.

“Always so snide.” He murmured, folding his cloak neatly.

“You’re one to talk.” He chuffed quietly, finally taking a seat in her chair.

“Perhaps. Are you going to tell me why you decided to stand in the rain like a fool?” Evelyn forced herself to sit up fully, leaning forward on her knees.

“I was just lost in thought, I guess.” She couldn’t lie to him, he was too perceptive for that; but she was hopeful that would be enough to answer his questions. He didn’t really care to pry anyway.

“And that was enough to make you look like a little lost waif? They must have been unpleasant thoughts.” He was clearly feeling as awkward as she was. He was never the most approachable or intimate, even on his best days. It had always been up to her to come to him. What was his deal today?

"Not entirely, I guess. Just bygones that I can’t change, and now here we are. Giving me more of them. At least my job’s a little different this time.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, heaving a sigh. She hadn’t talked to anyone about those times since coming to Askr. It had been hard to talk about them at home. Harder still, after what it had done to her poor Everett. She missed her brother dearly.

“I take that to mean that this isn’t your first experience with war.” She was surprised he was going to continue the conversation. Wouldn’t the Black Knight, stoic and intimidating as he was, usually drop the subject by now? She was silent for a moment, simply looking at him.

“No, it ain’t. Why the sudden interest?” He shrugged, his expression giving nothing away.

“I’ve been here with you for months now. It seems pointless to keep so stubbornly to myself.” She was surprised, but pleased to hear him say that. Even if he only reached out a little and kept very little company, it was healthier than none at all. “How long did you serve?”

“Seven years. From the time I was 18 until I was 25. I would have stuck it out for another year, but uh… an injury made that impossible. I was given a medical discharge less than six months before my eighth year.” He tilted his head, understanding in his eyes. She didn’t doubt he’d had soldiers like that in the past.

“What kind of injury? I’ve never noticed any scars and you certainly get around without trouble.” Evelyn laughed and shook her head, patting her right knee.

“You wanna see it? It’s kind of ugly, but I don’t mind showing you.” He shrugged and she took that as confirmation enough to pull her pants leg from her boot and roll it up her calf and past her knee. The knotted, gnarled scar was still a dark purple and at times she found her leg to be stiff, but it had healed nicely all things considered.

“By the goddess woman, what happened to you?” She snickered at the almost offended look that passed over his handsome face. It was fun to get a rise out of him, no matter how it was achieved.

“Got shot. Ripped the damn kneecap clear off, I had to get the whole thing replaced. Mostly just metal in there now.” He shook his head, his eyes drifting from her knee to her face and then back again.

“What on earth did you do to receive such a terrible wound?” She sighed and tucked the leg of her trousers back into her boot, allowing herself to remember the day it happened. She didn’t like to talk about this part, it was still too fresh in her mind.

“Well, I just got unlucky I guess. Wrong place, wrong time. My job with my unit was uh… retrieval. As in, when it was safe enough and there were a bunch of dead soldiers around, it was my job to come in and take them away for identification. Me and my team would run in, zip ‘em into bags or… pick up the pieces as best we could, and take them away. When the fighting was really over, we’d go out and try to find anyone who hadn’t been picked up before. No man left behind and all that. Mortuary Affairs Specialist was my official MOS. I’ve handed more than enough flags over to crying widows for my lifetime, I’ll tell you that right now.”

“If you were not a front line combatant, then surely you were safer than the others.” Evelyn shrugged, stretching her arms overhead.

“Are you ever really safe in a war zone? It wasn’t the first time I had to pull a weapon and shoot back, but it killed me to do it every time. I hate hurting people.” He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a show of challenge.

“Then why did you join the military? You knew you’d have to kill if you did.”

“Because I didn’t feel like I had many other options. If I had stayed, I’d have been just like my mama; married and pregnant before I even had a chance to be my own person. That was the last thing I wanted. So I decided to trade life in the backwoods, an alcoholic husband and kids for a chance to have a stable job and a college degree I couldn’t have afforded otherwise. For all the damn good that does me now.” Her bitterness surprised them both. She had never voiced these feelings out loud, and had held onto them for too long. It felt good to get them off her chest. “All that for a knee I’m still paying for, a dead friend’s brains sprayed across my face, and an education I don’t even get to use.”

“Do you regret it?” His voice was strangely soft, almost gentle. It almost felt like talking with the other one, the one they’d had to leave behind.

“Most days. I made some good friends, lost some good ones too. Came back, finished up my degree, and then found that I was “overqualified.” It’s stupid how many of us come back and can’t find work in our fields. Some of us can’t even get housing. I spent some time myself in and out of women’s shelters at first, until I just… gave in and took a job tending the bar at a club. Drunk men tip well as long as you smile and wear a low cut top.” She stood and made her way towards him, pulling up another chair. It felt better to sit near him. “Still, I can't let myself think it was a mistake. I saw too much and hurt too many for me to let myself believe that, and if I hadn’t done what I did, I don’t think I’d be here now. At least now I know you and the others.” She watched as his ears turned a soft shade of rose, his expression softening slightly. It was good to see that despite their differences, and the confusion it could cause her, he was still Zelgius.

“I’m not certain you should be glad to know me, Evelyn.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion, huh?” He snorted, his lips quirking up into a small smile, his emerald eyes lighting up with amusement. He was almost disgustingly handsome when he smiled.

“I suppose so.” She let her eyes linger on his face, letting the understanding silence stretch between them. It was odd to be so close to him. Usually he kept his distance, always just out of reach, his armor acting as a shield from all forms of contact, be it physical or otherwise. She wanted to ask what had changed, why he allowed the walls to come down, but she didn’t dare. If he realized just how companionable he was being, he’d probably clam up and leave. She didn’t want that. “You seem to feel better.”

“I do. I’ve never talked about that with anyone besides my brother, and mostly we just bitched about it together. It’s good to finally talk to someone else.” There were so many other things she’d like to talk to him about, but not yet. She wasn’t ready, and she wasn’t sure he was either. Even when he let himself relax and be soft and quiet, he still wasn’t the man she knew he could be, if he’d just let himself.

“Then I have done my duty. I was… concerned for you.” Despite her earlier melancholy, she found she couldn’t quite pass up the chance to tease him.

“Well bless your heart. You talk tough, but you’re sweetheart when you want to be.” He frowned, an expression that was clearly meant to be menacing passing over his face. She smiled, undeterred. “Oh, you can glare all you want, sugar. You don’t scare me.”

“You’re  _ insufferable _ . I don’t know why I put up with it. Why must you always speak to me in such a way?”

“It’s just how I talk, hon. Don’t let it go to your head, I call almost everyone that.” He shook his head, the heat of his glare dying in the face of her calm. Things had changed since they’d met. Months ago, she never would have spoken to him so casually, and she certainly wouldn’t have shared details of her past. Somewhere along the line, she’d stopped feeling intimidated and had grown to trust him. She would almost call him a friend now, if he’d only open up to her a little more. She knew so little of his past, and it made understanding his reasons for the less savory things difficult. Until she knew both sides of the story, she could not and would not judge him.

“I suppose there’s no way I can convince you to stop?” She shook her head, patting his hand gently.

“Nope. You’re stuck with it just like everyone else. I’m too old now to change it, and seeing you get all flustered just makes it too much fun anyhow.” His frown almost became a pout, but he didn’t challenge her. Just as everyone else had grown used to it, he would as well and there was nothing he could do about it.

***

“So what do we do about the forces we’ve left behind? Many of them are too valuable to simply sit on their hands while we move on towards Nifl.” Alfonse asked, crossing his arms, his expression troubled. Evelyn sighed, crossing her legs at the knees. She’d considered this very problem. Her thoughts turned to Zelgius and how he’d likely worry if they were gone too long without word. Having his strength on the frontlines would make her feel better, but she had to be realistic at this point. How long would that be? Even with the aid of the healers and his own physical prowess, he would still need to train and shake the dust off. They needed to buy themselves time, so that he could.

“Fjorm… can you think of anything that we could use to slow them down? Something else to chase? Surtr is the most generic villain I’ve  **ever** seen. Don’t they always want more power and all that?” Evelyn asked. Surely they had legends of powerful weapons handed out by women in ponds in this world.

“I… I’m sure we do, but he’s so very determined. How would we even convince him that he needs it?” Evelyn sighed as a strange sense of calm washed over her. It was a gamble, but there was a chance that the answer was right in front of her. Loki  _ had  _ said that she didn’t want their little back and forth to end, after all. If she could convince her to play along and lead Surtr on a wild goose chase, then there was a chance that it would work out in their favor.

“I have an idea, but y’all aren’t gonna like it.” Anna narrowed her eyes as she waited for Evelyn to explain herself, the gears in her head turning. “If you’ll remember, Loki wants to… “play.” So I’ll play. If she wants to drag this out and lead her oaf of a king around by his nose, then so be it. I’ll give her what she wants and she’ll give  _ us _ what we need.”

“You’re right, I don’t like that at all.” Sharena said, wrinkling her nose. “She’s dangerous, are you sure you want to spend any kind of time around her?” Evelyn shrugged, rising to her feet.

“We don’t have a lot of other options, honey. She’s got her own agenda and is loyal to that alone. If I play along, then she might just be the best friend we have in this.”

“And when she turns on us?” Anna asked, raising her eyebrows incredulously. Evelyn smiled grimly, folding her arms behind her back.

“Then we’ll take care of her. I’m not saying we trust her, only that we use her.” Anna nodded, crossing her arms.

“I think I have to agree with Evelyn on this. We don’t have a lot of time as it is and at this rate, they’ll push too deep into Nifl for us to catch up. They’ve already claimed the lowlands, we can’t afford for them to push much further. King Gustav and his forces can only do so much while that ward is active.”

“How would you get word to her?” Alfonse asked, looking between Evelyn and Anna, his brows pinching in the middle.

“Well, if I had to guess she’s probably keeping tabs on us. She has a vested interest in keeping us in the game as long as she can. So, it might be as easy as stirring up a rumor that I’m separated from the main force. She might take that as an invitation. If we want to be extra sure she does, we spread a rumor that I’m interested in parlay or switching sides. Just about anything would work, really.” Evelyn said, fussing with her robes.

“Well, if you think it’d be best, then I say we try it. Chasing after them like this is only going to get us further away from our other forces.” Sharena nodded in agreement, looking to her brother for confirmation.

“Well, if it does work out then there’s one more bit of this you might not like. We can’t let your father in on it. He needs to believe that the rumor Surtr is chasing is real, just as much as Surtr himself does.”

“Evelyn? Why would you say something like that? King Gustav has to know what’s going on!” Anna lectured.

“If he knows, they might give it away. They might not have the urgency and purpose we need them to have. If Surtr stops buying this for even a second, it all falls apart and then we’re back to square one. No. He can’t know, not yet anyway.” Alfonse chewed his lip, looking sad and thoughtful for a moment before nodding.

“Evelyn is right. I… will take the blame, should he be angry.” Evelyn frowned and shook her head. She couldn’t let a boy his age take the fall for her, it was unacceptable.

“Absolutely not. I know you like to forget about it, honey; but you’re still just a kid. I’m not going to let you take the blame for something I did.” When he looked ready to argue, she held up a finger to silence him, her eyebrow arching. “I mean it. If your father decides that I’ve stepped on his royal toes, then we can talk about it like adults.” Sharena glanced between her brother and the summoner, expression thoughtful.

“I… think it would be okay. Father is reasonable and if we can explain it to him, I think he’ll understand. Evelyn… are you sure you want to do this? What if something happens to you?” Evelyn squeezed the girl’s shoulder, smiling reassuringly.

“I’m not going alone, hon. Do you honestly think my big, angry shadow is going to let me out of his sight?” Relief swept over the princess’ face as she seemed to remember the Black Knight and his role as her protector. “I’ll be okay honey. I promise.”

***

“Are you sure she’ll come?” Evelyn smiled at the room’s only other occupant, tossing her pack in the corner, watching as he placed his nearby.

“Well, I don’t have any guarantees for any of this, but trying is better than worrying.” Zelgius nodded in agreement, moving to removing his gauntlets and helm.

“While I’m getting ready, check that trunk for extra bedding. I’ll sleep in the floor.” Evelyn snorted, shaking her head. The bed; while not exactly large, was not so small that he should feel the need to sleep in the floor. She was hardly a stranger to sharing space. She had two younger sisters, after all.

“I’m not gonna make you sleep in the floor. You’re not a dog, Zelgius.” He seemed to balk at the suggestion, crossing his arms over his chest in an almost defensive fashion.

“The fact that I am even sharing a room with you is inappropriate, Summoner. There will be those that speak ill of you, and I will not give them more cause to do so.” Evelyn laughed and crossed her arms, jutting out her chin willfully.

“So some old biddy downstairs is gonna call me a slut. It’s nothing I ain’t been called before. At least  **you** won’t have an aching back come mornin’. I need you at your best in case something goes wrong, so just…  _ cooperate _ .” The Black Knight glared down at her, his green eyes boring down into hers with a ferocity she’d never been subjected to; and yet, it only made her more determined. She had no illusions that she could force him to do anything he didn’t want to. He was so much larger and stronger than she was, but there had to be something she could do.

“Evelyn, we are not having this discussion. I am your guardian, you should not see me as anything more. Think of me as furniture if you must, but I will not allow this.” What had gotten into this man? Why was he pleading with her like that? Why did he sound so desperate to build his walls back up? Without thinking, she reached up and brushed his hair away from his forehead, trailing her fingers back to tuck loose strands behind his ear. His expression morphed into one of befuddlement as she reached for the clasp keeping his cloak fastened.

“You need a haircut, hon. I can do it for you if you’d like.” She folded his cloak, allowing it to drape over her arm. “Let’s get you out of that armor. We can argue all we want in the morning, okay?” She watched as the fire drained from his eyes, leaving him looking tired. His shoulders sagged as she reached for the first set of buckles on his vambraces.

“You’re incomprehensible.” He watched her a moment before gently taking her hand away, holding it a moment longer than necessary. “You needn’t help me. I’ve done this myself for many years.”

“You don’t have to always do things alone, you know?” Her knight chuffed, a tiny smile curving his lips upward.

“Maybe not, but truly… I believe this particular task may go faster if I do.” She noted how his ears flushed slightly, and the softness of his eyes. This time; at least, it didn’t seem like a product of his stubborn pride.

“Well, if that’s what you want I’ll leave you to it, honey.” He watched as she made her way to her pack, pulling a boar bristle brush from its depths. He wondered briefly if  _ he _ enjoyed the smell of her hair as much as he did. The very thought of it made him want to retch. That version of himself was altogether unworthy of serving her, disgraced as he was. He’d seen the fear and grief in his eyes when he’d learned that he would not be able to escape his past, it was utterly pathetic. Yet… there was a sense of anxiety that he couldn’t shake.

_ He _ was older, and likely stronger and more skilled as well. She would have no use for him if that were true. While that would not have bothered him once, now… now it made his stomach twist uncomfortably. He couldn’t bear the thought of being replaced at her side. He jumped slightly as she groaned in frustration, tossing articles of clothing out of her bag as she searched for something.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Is something amiss?” He watched as she shoved her clothes back into the pack before looking over her shoulder.

“I could have sworn I packed a nightshirt, but I guess I forgot it in the rush. I don’t suppose you’d lend me something? Mine are too short to be appropriate.” He sputtered as he felt his cheeks heat slightly, forcing his mind to remain on the task at hand.

“I suppose. I expect to get it back, I don’t have enough clothes to simply give them away.” He fussed, pulling a simple white tunic from his pack.

“That just makes me want to keep it more. You shouldn’t try telling me what to do.” He sighed, shaking his head bemusedly before moving to finish removing his armor. “I’ll be back soon.” He nodded as she gathered the remaining necessities and slipped out of the room. This inn was small and had only five rooms for a night’s rent, and a single washroom. He felt safe enough allowing her to go alone, since it was a short enough distance that he could hear the water rushing from the pump and into the tub.

He sighed and removed the bottle of linseed oil and rag from his pack, setting to work cleaning his armor before rust from the rain could settle in. It was soothing to tend to something that served him so well throughout the years, but he was surprised to find that her touch had done more to calm him than anything else ever had. He was confused by this turn of events, and nervous; though he’d never let her see it. Part of him wanted to shove her away and tell her how he despised being touched, but… he didn’t mind if it was her.

He shook his head and refocused his attention. He’d been buffing the same place on his breastplate for a while now. She was making him soft. Weak. She made him feel like he could be something other than what he was. ‘You’re not a dog’ she’d said. She was only half right… he was not  _ her _ dog; though that fact was becoming harder and harder to remember as time wore on. What would his master think if he saw him? Would he be angry? Surely he would be. He’d already sworn his life and his sword to him, after all. That was hardly something he could take back, especially after all his master had done for him.

He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he caught his reflection in the polished black steel. Weapons had no need of these annoying thoughts and feelings. He had already chosen how he was to be used, and it was too late now. His master’s hand was the one that would wield him until he broke; and unlike that weakling they had left in charge of their forces at home, he would not run from his fate. He would die as he was meant to, and he would be satisfied. It was the fate of every living creature, and he was no exception. 

He startled as the door swung open and Evelyn joined him once more, freshly bathed and smelling of sweetly of flowers. He felt himself growing warm under the collar as he looked at her; even he could not deny that she wore his shirt well, and her damp hair rendered the fabric sheer about the shoulders. Her legs were shapely and pale, only marred by the scar on her knee. A throat being cleared drug his attention away from her legs and up to her face, where he was met with an infuriating smile.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, sugar?” He felt a brief moment of panic as he scrambled to find a suitable excuse for his gawking.

“Forgive me… I was just noting that white makes you vanish into the walls. It’s like looking at a blank canvas. Impressive, really.”

“God you’re an asshole.” Saved yet again by mean humor.

“I’ve been trying to warn you.” He said, hauling himself to his feet, wiping his hands on the rag. “Did you leave any hot water for the rest of the city?” Evelyn rolled her eyes and made her way wordlessly to the bed, flopping down onto the pillows.

“No. Enjoy your shrunken cock, Sir Dickhead.”

“So crass.” He frowned as she rolled onto her side, pulling the covers over herself. Had he truly upset her so much? Surely he’d said much crueler things to her in the past.

“I never said I was a lady. That’s on y’all for assuming. Now get ready for bed so we can get this over with.” He sighed and took that as his cue to give her space. He would apologize later, perhaps; if he felt that it was necessary. For now, he would let his jab at her appearance serve as a wedge to separate them. It would be better for them in the end.

***

She knew better than to be angry with him. He was just being himself, using any and every tool he had to deflect her attempts at getting him to open up. He’d been embarrassed at being caught staring at her so blatantly and chose to make fun of her to cover it up. It was rude, certainly but nothing he’d never done before. Perhaps it only upset her so much because of how close they’d been all day, because she’d seen the warmth he held so close. He’d always been absolutely infuriating, a frustrating man to his last breath; but finally having a name and a face to put with all his best and worst traits made it impossible for her to not want to know him as a person. She wanted to see him smile and hear him laugh like the other one had that day in the summoning chamber. 

His voice was warm and almost carefree in that brief moment, a lovely break from his distant and overly serious demeanor. He deserved to have that every day. Seeing either of them looking sad and lonely made her heart hurt and desperate to know what had happened to him. She wanted to be his friend. She watched as he stepped over the threshold, meeting her eyes cooly before packing away his dirty clothes.

“I thought you were going to bed.” He said, turning back towards her. She shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest.

“Couldn’t sleep. Come here, honey.” She patted the bed beside her, watching as he seemed to deliberate for a moment before finally obeying, stashing his sheathed belt knife beneath his pillow, and ensuring his sword was within reach should he need it.  “Kill the lamp and lay down. It’s time for bed.” He hummed and did as she asked before sinking down onto the mattress. He took up more space in the bed than she’d expected, forcing her to curl up against his side, her head settling onto his shoulder. His arm came to rest across her ribs, a sigh taking the remaining tension from his frame.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured. She smiled and nudged him gently with her knee, her arm draping itself over his stomach.

“I know, don’t worry about it too much. I forgave you twenty minutes ago.” She smiled as she felt his signature almost-laugh rumble in his chest.

“You forgive too easily.”

“Only my friends and family, hon.” He was silent a moment, seemingly considering her comment before pulling her closer to his side.

“Is that how you’ve come to see me?” The question was almost whispered, as if he was afraid of her answer.

“More or less. I’d like to be your friend, if you’d let me.”

“That’s not a good idea, Evelyn. You tend to regret things that hurt you.” She snorted, nudging him once more.

“You planning on hurting me, Zelgius?”

“Not on purpose, but there are many ways for me to do so.” Evelyn understood what he meant. They’d be separated eventually. She didn’t relish that either.

“As long as you apologize, I’ll forgive you.” He heaved a sigh, a small chuckle escaping through his lips, the sound sad.

“Then friends it is.” He squeezed her once more, his voice dropping to a low, honeyed murmur. “Rest. I shall protect you with all that I am.” Evelyn smiled, allowing her eyes to slip closed. Tonight, she hoped she could sleep without nightmares.

***

The familiar scent of magic woke him, his body springing into action before his mind even had time to catch up. Evelyn yelped as she fell from the bed, landing hard on her rear as he leapt to his feet, weapon in hand. A soft giggle from somewhere near the door cut through his panic as Evelyn crawled back onto the bed. It seemed that Evelyn’s hunch was correct, though why the damned witch had to make such an entrance was beyond him.

“My goodness, did I startle you, dear? What a pity, the two of you were so cute, tangled together like lovers.” He forced himself to relax as Evelyn’s hand came to rest on his forearm, the gentle pressure coaxing him to lower his sword.

“Good morning, Loki. I was hoping you’d come by.” Evelyn said, pulling the blankets up over her legs.

“Oh? I was afraid I’d interrupted the two of you. You looked so very comfortable.” He clenched his teeth and ignored the pointed look the woman gave him, her eyes full of understanding. He disliked the feeling that she was privy to his deepest thoughts. They were inappropriate for a man like him, and he knew it.

“Nah, you just startled us is all.  **We** have something to talk about.” Evelyn crossed her arms, her tone final. He always appreciated her willingness to trim the fat and get directly to the point. Hopefully their guest would feel the same.

“Oh? I have to say I’m curious. Send that snarling hound of yours out of the room and I’ll gladly hear what you have to say.”

“I think not. I will stand here and snarl as necessary. Know your place.” Evelyn’s hand once again found his arm, her touch raising gooseflesh on his neck.

“Zelgius, just stand guard at the door. Loki will surrender her weapon and the door will be unlocked. Fair enough for you?” She asked, looking expectantly towards the other woman.

“Of course, if that’ll make your anxious pooch feel better. I would hate for him to whine and paw at the door while we’re talking, it makes it so hard to concentrate.” Evelyn bristled, her frown severe.

“He ain’t a dog, damn it.” Loki chuckled and flicked her hair, her eyes trailing over his body thoughtfully.

“It is simply how he sees himself, dear. Don’t get so upset, some men simply know their place better than others. Now be a good boy and wait outside. If we need you, we’ll call for you.” Zelgius frowned, looking once more towards Evelyn for confirmation. He didn’t like it, but if she wished for him to stand outside as well, he had no choice but to obey.

“Go on, hon. We’ll be okay, I promise. Just wait out there.” He clenched his jaw and sheathed his sword.

“Give me your weapon, witch. If I hear even a whisper of treachery from this room, I will not hesitate to kill you. Am I clear?” Loki hummed and did as he demanded, her gaze uncomfortably curious as she looked at him.

“Oh very, but don’t fret. I have no desire to hurt your precious summoner, not today at least.” Zelgius cringed as her hand moved from her weapon to his arm, her smile unnecessarily lurid. “But when I do, I’ll make sure you get to watch.”

“Loki, sit down please. We have important things to talk about.” He forced himself to do as he was ordered, but everything in him was begging him not to leave them alone. If something happened, he wasn’t sure he would be fast enough to reach them. He could only pray that this little meeting of theirs didn’t go on for too long. His nerves simply wouldn’t be able to take it.

***

“So. I’m here now, and we’re alone. What is it that you want to talk about, my dear? Surely you wouldn’t abandon your post; one of your strongest generals in tow, simply for a chat. You worked so hard to get my attention, after all. A letter would have done the trick.”

“Letters are too easy to intercept. I needed to make a show of it or else you might not take it seriously.” Evelyn shrugged, pulling her legs up so that the other woman could sit down.

“I see. Well, you’ve certainly piqued my interest. So do tell me what this little tryst of ours is all about.” Evelyn leaned forward, her voice dropping low.

“I need you to buy us time. You want this little game of cat and mouse to go on? Do that for me.” Loki’s eyebrows rose incredulously, genuine surprise painting her features.

“You want me to do…  _ what _ ? How am I to buy  _ you _ time, and why should I?”

“Because you want to cause trouble and stir up chaos more than you want either side to win. You don’t care about that, all you care about is how much you can fan the flames. So fan ‘em. Tell Surtr there’s something we’re looking for in the west, or hell; tell him that there’s some artifact that will make him even more powerful, something that will assure world domination. I don’t care what we decide on, but this has to happen if you want to keep playing.” Loki sat quietly a moment, mulling over her proposition.

“So let me be sure I’m understanding you; you want  **me** to lie to my King so that you can… what, exactly? Defeat him? It’s simply not possible. Not right now, at any rate.” Evelyn shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Don’t you want to watch us try? You said it yourself, this would be  _ boring _ if the underdog doesn’t have  _ any _ chance at all. We have an idea, but we need a little time so that we can act on it. Please, darlin’? Won’t you do this for me?” Loki hummed, reaching out to tuck a wayward lock of ginger hair behind her ear. “You aren’t the only one who likes to stir up trouble, honey. Imagine how much trouble we can make together.” Loki’s smile grew wider as she leaned in, her other hand coming up to cup Evelyn’s cheek.

“Goodness, but aren’t you a little minx? I knew there was a reason I liked you, we’re more alike than I realized.” Evelyn grinned, her gaze defiant as Loki’s face hovered close. “I think I might be willing to play along with you. Shall we seal our pact?”

“I don’t do blood, hon.” Loki snorted, tilting her head as one hand slipped into the mess of rumpled red hair.

“Goodness no, that’s so gauche. A kiss, to me, seems more appropriate.” Evelyn licked her lips, trying to gauge Loki’s mood. The playfulness she was used to remained firmly in place, but underneath was something familiar and despite being her enemy, it thrilled her. It had been a long time since someone last looked at her with so much hunger in their eyes. Evelyn leaned in wordlessly, taking Loki’s bottom lip between her teeth, her own hands cupping the back of the woman’s head. Loki purred as their lips met, the kiss slow, but consuming. Evelyn allowed herself to be pushed back onto the pillows, Loki’s body resting between her parted thighs as their hands began to tug at hair and clothing.

This wasn’t how she’d planned this to go. She hadn’t meant to flirt or imply that she wanted anything but cooperation from the other woman, but as Loki’s hand cupped her breast, it no longer mattered. What was a one time fling between two adults, after all? If the urgency of Loki’s kiss was any indication, it seemed she felt much the same way about the situation, she must have been tired and frustrated as well; and while she’d never admit it, she was desperate to make some kind of progress. The weight of expectation was becoming unbearable, and if she kept spinning her wheels the way she was, more and more people would die. If this would help convince Loki to help, then she’d do it gladly.

“You’re thinking, dear. Stop it.” She shivered as Loki nibbled her ear, her hands gripping her hips. Evelyn sighed and nodded, her eyes sliding shut. She would worry about what happened next later.

***

Zelgius started as the door opened and their visitor stepped out, her cheeks rosy and hair mussed. Evelyn’s scent clung to her and wafted towards him with her every movement. He scowled as he handed her staff back, flinching away as she patted his chest.

“I hope we weren’t too loud, dear. She makes quite convincing arguments.” He’d heard their…  _ debate _ quite clearly. “Perhaps next time we should let you join us.”

“There will not be a next time, witch. Keep your end of the bargain and begone.” She giggled and reached out to pinch his cheek, her infuriating smile still in place.

“Oh but dear, you don’t get to decide such things. If she decides there will be a next time, then there shall be. Regardless, I’ll be seeing you both again. Take care now, be a good dog and protect your mistress.” Zelgius watched with disdain as she sauntered down the stairs before steeling himself for what he would see when he entered the room once more.

Evelyn stood at the wash basin, brushing her hair. She looked much the same as she had when he’d left, though more disheveled than before, her expression troubled. Her smell was muddled with his own and the other woman’s and it made him feel a strange sense of unease.

“Well, that worked out.” Her statement was simple, but carried several meanings.

“Oh? I take it she’s agreed to help?” He asked, moving to don his armor. An hour ago, he would have given anything for even just five more minutes with her pressed against him, but now… now he remembered just what he was and what he was meant to do. It was not his place to want anything more than to serve her, nor did he have anything save his body and blade to offer.

“She did. We’ve decided that he would be most interested in finding and destroying a weapon known as  Dáinsleif. It was apparently the sword of one of the old kings of Nifl and it’s said that whenever it’s drawn, someone has to die. Something that never fails to kill its target would scare even an invulnerable warlord. Princess Fjorm suggested it yesterday, and I agree that a weapon that probably never even existed in the first place is our best bet, especially if he only has a vague idea of where to look. Princess  Gunnthrá has some kind of plan, we just have to get to her.” He hummed, tightening the straps of his cuisses as he listened.

“Do you think that will be enough to get him sidetracked?” He asked.

“It is if he thinks that’s what we’re up to. If he thinks we’re close to getting something that would ignore his magical protection, then it would be in his best interest to stop us. I don’t have any doubt that he’ll throw more of his generals our way, and try to slow us down while he looks for the damn thing. He might be powerful, but he’s shown us that he’s still a man. We goad him enough, and he’ll bite.”

“You sound confident. That’s good.” Evelyn hummed, turning to face him at last.

“Well someone has to be. If I’m not confident in this gambit, who will be?” He nodded in agreement, slipping his gauntlets on.

“True. You should get washed up and dressed. There’s much we have to do, now that we have a plan in motion.”

“That we do. I imagine Alfonse and the others are anxious to know how things went… and to know we aren’t dead. Give me a few minutes and we’ll head out.”

***

“She  _ actually _ agreed to it?!” Anna exclaimed, her eyes bright with cheer. “ _ How _ did you manage that?” Evelyn chuckled nervously, remembering that morning and the bouts of awkward silence she and her knight suffered through afterward. 

“I gave her what she wanted. She wants to cause trouble, so she’s getting her chance.”

“ _ Really _ ? That’s all it takes?” Sharena asked. Evelyn shrugged, a smile creeping over her face.

“People are usually pretty simple, honey. Everyone has something they want, and if you can give it to them, they’ll almost always jump for it. I ain’t sayin’ I’ve got her wrapped around my finger, she’s too smart for that; but that just means she can see that this relationship is mutually beneficial.”

“Why would she want  _ that _ of all things, though?” Evelyn reached out to pat the young prince on the shoulder.

“Sometimes there’s things going on behind the scenes that we can’t see, and something that seems weird to us ain’t as simple as we think. It might be something she needs to spark change in her own kingdom, it might be for her own personal gain, or she might just be a woman who’s bored and needs to feel like she’s in control of something. Who knows?”

“Well, whatever her reasons, it’s going to buy us some time. We need to rally the rest of the troops and keep an eye on Surtr. Let’s put our heads together and decide our next move, shall we?”


	5. To the Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn sends word that the heroes remaining at home are to join them on the frontlines, and Zelgius must finally face the others as the Black Knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update! I was struggling with this chapter after the developments of chapter four. I haven't been planning this one at all, just writing by the seat of my pants, so things sometimes get a little hectic. Thanks for the patience and kind words! 
> 
> A word of caution: There is a scene in this chapter that details a part of Zelgius' past and it might be very uncomfortable for some readers. It was uncomfortable for me to write and edit it. I've made it obvious which scene it is, as the whole thing is in italics.

Her quill scratched across the paper, ink blotching in places as she paused to consider her next word. They didn’t have time to waste any longer, no time to wait. They needed all hands on deck, and that included Zelgius. She read over her hastily scrawled note, chewing her lip in thought. Was it too formal? Would it make him feel rushed or guilty? Should she add some more personal touches to let him know it really was her and not a trick? Surely not. Zelgius was a smart man and not easily offended; he’d been a soldier just as she was, after all. Her letter was concise, and gave clear directions. There was little else he would expect. She nodded and rolled the paper to allow it to fit into the small tube attached to the messenger bird’s leg. 

“Okay, Callie. I need you to take this to General Zelgius, got it?” She murmured, slipping the falcon a sliver of raw beef. “Be a good girl and don’t make any stops.”

“You know you don’t have to talk to the bird every time, right? It’s not as if it understands you.” Anna said. Evelyn kept her back turned, giving the bird one last look.

“Animals understand more than you give them credit for. They’re a hell of a lot more intelligent than most people are, and won’t stab you in the back either. Whether I have to talk to her or not don’t matter. Truth is, I’d rather talk to her than another person most of the time.” Anna hummed, coming to stand beside her as she let the falcon soar into the air before turning to speak.

“Have I angered you in some way?” 

Evelyn’s eyebrows rose slightly, her lips thinning. Anna did nothing but vex her most days. She liked the commander the same way she’d liked her platoon leader: at a distance, doing her job. It wasn’t that she found Anna to be bad at her job or even unlikeable as an individual, but rather that Anna herself seemed too concerned with her opinion on such matters.

“Nah. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve always felt that there was a… wall of some sort between us. You’re comfortable enough with the heroes, even ones that are… shall we say, less savory than others. You don’t seem worried about rank or social status, but when it comes to me, you seem distant. Why?” Evelyn frowned and gestured for the woman to follow her as she made her way back into camp.

“It’s got nothing to do with like or dislike. On a personal level, I’m sure you’re a very fine lady. But right now, we don’t have time to get personal. You’re in charge here, you’re the commander. I don’t fraternize with my commander, and as long as you keep doing your job, you won’t have any problems out of me. The moment you stop doing your job, I’ll throw you a blanket party and leave you tied up to a tree.” Evelyn tried to keep her tone light, but she was serious. At this point, there was little she wouldn’t do if she felt it necessary.  Anna fell silent as she pondered Evelyn’s words, nodding to herself.

“We aren’t traditional military, so there’s really no reason to treat my rank with so much respect. It’s not like you didn’t earn your place here.” Evelyn’s gut turned, already aware of where the conversation was going.

“I didn’t do anything special. Never have.” Anna huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. They’d had this same conversation the day she’d arrived in Askr; she’d been hungover, pantsless and cursing the sun as Breidablik was shoved into her hands, a strange woman babbling nonsense at her. 

“You say that, and yet here you are. It’s true that anyone can be a hero, but they have to choose to be. What you did that day--”

“ **I ain’t a hero** . What I did back then wasn’t being a hero. I was surviving and it just happened to make sure everyone else did too. Now stop poking at me like this, woman. If I wanted to talk about that day, I’d have talked to my therapist about it.” She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, the sound of it nearly drowning out everything else. Even just thinking about it nearly made her lose herself to panic.

“Sorry. I… can’t ever know what you went through. I just want you to understand.” Evelyn shook her head, speeding the pace of her walk. 

“Just stick to what you’re good at. I’ll see you later, unless you need something from me.”

When Anna didn’t reply, she pushed her way into her tent, covering her eyes with her hands as she took deep breaths through her nose. She hated how the commander seemed determined to get her to talk about that day. If she really wanted the wall between them to come down, she would stop her incessant prodding. Evelyn bit her lip against the sob that threatened to bubble up from within, her throat already aching with the effort. She’d never be free from the guilt she felt for her actions that day, no matter what she did or how many lives she saved now. The damage was done and the blood on her hands would be there until it came time for her to pay her dues. 

Is this what made her brother bow out? His guilt was probably twice that of her own, maybe even more. They’d both left the army broken and less than they had been, but he’d had the courage to do something she didn’t: answer for his crimes against his fellow man. Everett had always been braver than her. She took a steadying breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. Crying wouldn’t fix anything, and it couldn’t bring back the dead.  She had too much work to do and not enough time in the day to do it. 

***

The air of the rookery was heavy with anticipation as Zelgius slid the roll of paper from the container on the bird’s leg. He had to read Evelyn’s hasty scrawl a few times before fully comprehending it. They were being summoned to the front after only four days. The missive was short and gave no hint as to what had changed, but it seemed that Evelyn thought it imperative that they join the main force. He gripped his cane, chewing his lip in worry. He was still little more than a burden in his current state, and it would likely be difficult to convince the healers to simply finish mending his injuries. His master had never hesitated to simply do what needed to be done, regardless of how it drained him. He would rest and return to his duties the next day, just like any other soldier. Would they be so concerned with it if he were a common soldier? He jumped as he felt something weighty on his forearm and found himself face to face with the messenger bird, its gold eyes boring expectantly into his, its foot clutching his wrist. 

“Ah. You want a treat, I take it? One moment, then.” He said, reaching out to pluck a mouse from the pail hanging nearby. “Here we are. Your master will no doubt feed you later, but for now allow this to suffice.” The bird made a few happy chirps before scarfing down the offered treat. Zelgius made his way to the door, his mind buzzing. There was a lot of work to be done, and only a short span of time to do it. He needed to find Robin, they needed to plan their departure down to the letter.

He knew he had plenty of people he could count on to make this happen quickly and efficiently, but he needed to get them all together first. He glanced out one of the windows at the sun, taking note of its position in the sky. It would be time for lunch soon, perhaps he could make the announcement then; but in the meantime, he needed to have his arms and armor delivered to his quarters. 

“Where are you limping off to, General?” 

Zelgius’ steps faltered as a snide voice came from behind. He turned on the spot, trying to keep his expression neutral as irritation bubbled away inside at the interruption. 

“Good day, Niles. Is there something you need?”

“Not at all! I was just curious what could have you in such a hurry.” Zelgius shrugged as the man stepped closer, his eye focused intensely on his face. “You mostly keep to yourself, so it’s hard to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” Zelgius frowned, straightening his posture as much as he could while propped up by a cane.

“If you’re truly so curious, I’m headed to the armory to request that my things be sent to my quarters today. After that, I will be holding council with Robin. You may follow if it would put you at ease, Niles.” Niles hummed, smiling luridly at him as he began to circle him in an almost predatory way.

“I might take you up on that. I can’t complain about being in the company of such a specimen.”

“If you’re trying to fluster me, you’re wasting your time. I’ve heard more empty flattery in my life than I’m willing to speak on. Follow if you wish.” Niles chuckled, falling into step beside him.

“Was that a challenge? I have to say, General; you’re awfully bold for a prissy little lordling.”

“And you’re presumptuous for one who knows nothing.” Zelgius kept his tone light with practiced ease. He wouldn't give him the privilege of his temper. Niles scoffed, his falsely friendly tone falling away in favor of something more mocking.

“Oh? And what do I not know? I’ve seen hundreds of men just like you,  _ General _ . You had that title handed to you while people who worked harder for much longer got nothing. Your mommy and daddy got you where you are now, not talent.” Zelgius stopped, breathing slowly through his nose. This irritating little gadfly was threatening to break his composure.

“If you’re trying to make me lose my temper, I’m afraid you’ll fail in that as well. I have no need for your approval, nor do I want it. I do not owe you my life’s story, nor will you get it. It is not up to you whether or not someone deserves something.”

“You really are a tough nut, huh? That usually works, I have to say I’m impressed. Usually noblemen are a lot easier to provoke.” Zelgius arched an eyebrow, continuing his trek. “I’ll get you eventually though. I always do.”

“Why do you want to provoke me? Do you not have better ways to spend your time?”

“What can I say? Knocking rich little prats down a peg or two is my hobby. I can’t stand people like you, men who have never known hunger.” Zelgius snorted, remembering all the times he’d stolen potato peelings from the pigs, just to survive.

“That’s an odd hobby, considering that any harm you cause them will not last. Might I suggest gardening? It’s quite soothing.” 

“ _ Them _ ? You don’t count yourself in that crowd? You don’t get to look like you do living in the gutter.” Zelgius hummed, stopping in front of the large wooden door that would lead him into the armory. “Looks like I need to work harder to drag you down to my level.”

“I’m afraid you may need to chop me off at the knees if that’s what you’re attempting to do.” Zelgius watched as Niles’ expression went from mocking to surprised, but he didn’t have any more time to waste trading barbs with him. He pushed the door open without waiting for a reply and greeted the young man at the counter. Somewhere in the back, he could hear the sound of hammers and the bellows. 

“Good day, Sir! I take it you’re here to check on the repairs to your armor?” Zelgius nodded, smiling kindly as he fought to ignore the glare boring into the back of his head. 

“Yes, I’m afraid that I shall be needing it sooner than we expected. How is it?”

“We’re almost done with it. The Master finished the helm and breastplate just a little while ago, he’s trying to do something about the right pauldron now. Would you like to see them? I know a knight’s armor is important, so we want to make sure it’s done properly.” The young man seemed eager, and despite his desire to remain calm in the face of Niles’ ignorance, the petty part of him wanted to annoy the man in return.

“I would appreciate it, thank you.”

“Give me just one moment then, Sir. I feel you’ll be satisfied, given the shape it was in.” Zelgius waited as the young man went to fetch the pieces, his pulse quickening. 

“That does bring up an interesting question… what exactly caused those injuries? Did you pick a fight with someone who actually knew what they were doing?” Zelgius ignored him in favor of drumming quietly on the wood, his fingers itching to wrap themselves around Niles’ neck and squeeze until the life was gone from him.

“Here we are, Sir. Please inspect it to your heart’s content. I’ll be back in a moment.” The air was thick with awkwardness as Zelgius picked up his helm and inspected it, running his finger over the place where the cut had once been. The repair, while well done, was obvious given that the patch and rivets hadn’t been blackened yet, but it was mostly seamless. He waited for Niles to say something,  _ anything _ , but the man remained silent as he placed his helm on the counter, giving his breastplate the same examination. The young man returned, looking almost nervous now that he’d had time to take a look at his armor.

“Your master has done an excellent job, I have no complaints. Please give him my thanks.”

“I will, Sir! Would you like to see your sword as well? We sharpened and polished it.”

“That’s not necessary, but thank you. Please have my things delivered to my quarters when the repairs are finished. Good day, young man.” 

“And you as well!” Zelgius smiled and shook the boy’s hand before turning back towards the door, feeling vindicated as he came to a stop next to a sulking Niles. 

“As I said, you are presumptuous and know  _ nothing _ . Please mind your manners from here on; I am a patient man, but even my patience is not endless.” Without waiting for a reply, he left the armory in search of Robin. He had the feeling that Niles would continue to poke and prod as he had been, though hopefully with a somewhat tempered approach. 

***

“So we've been summoned to the front, then? I suppose we shouldn't be surprised given how things have been escalating with Múspell.” Robin said, peering over the map. “She said to take the north road, until we reached this town. I imagine they're waiting for us near there since she didn't give any other directions.” 

“I wonder why they chose to wait there. I see no strategic advantages, and it is naught but plains all the way up to the border.” Zelgius had never claimed to be any sort of expert when it came to the mind of tacticians, but as a soldier, he saw no reason to wait in the open. 

“It could be that they’re not concerned with Surtr’s forces at the moment. I can’t say exactly why that might be, but I’m sure they’ll be telling us everything when we get there.” Robin said, finally straightening his back. “I’m anxious to get out there. I’m not used to being here while my comrades are elsewhere.”

Zelgius understood that all too well. Even before he’d come to this world and suffered defeat at Ike’s hand, he’d been separated from his master thanks to the machinations of a few cowardly men. His skin crawled as he remembered that filthy toad Valtome and how his laugh had raked claws across his skull. The Senators had the gall to depose their Empress, intent to kill her despite her youth; and his master they kept locked up like an animal. It was an insult that he would never forgive.

“We’ll be there sooner than we realize, I’m sure. I’d like to leave by this time tomorrow if at all possible. You know our comrades here better than I, I expect I can trust you to assist in delegation?” 

“Of course! I have just the person in mind to oversee our convoy. Come, let’s go pay her a visit.” Zelgius followed the tactician out the door and down the hall, mindful of his stride. Even injured, he could still trample the smaller man. “She’s predictable, so we’re likely to find her outside at this hour.”

The walk to the training grounds was substantial, but he was finding it easier to walk long distances now. While the healing had been slower than he was used to given his master’s willingness to simply get him back to work, it was still much faster than it could have been if he weren’t being treated by healers. If they’d only given him another week or so, he’d probably have been healed and ready to return to training. He missed training. He missed the subtle soreness in his muscles the morning after a hard workout and the feeling of a sword in his hand. He took a deep breath as they made it outside, the blue sky overhead making him feel more energetic just by seeing it.

From where they were, they could hear the sound of someone training on a dummy, her grunts and the striking of her weapon on wood familiar to both. As they rounded the corner and made it into the yard, they were met with the sight of a young red haired woman beating on the training dummy. Zelgius allowed himself to watch a moment, pleased with her stance and skill with the lance. She would make a good sparring partner.

“Good day, Cordelia!” Robin called, smiling widely as the young woman turned to face them.

“Hello, Robin; General Zelgius. What can I do for you?” 

“We received a letter from the front this morning, we’re to ride out to join them by tomorrow. Robin tells me that you’re best suited to oversee the preparation of our supply convoy, my lady.” Zelgius said, attempting to stand straighter, rather than rely so heavily on his cane. With luck, he’d not be needing it soon.

“Oh, well I don’t know about that; Robin exaggerates a touch. I’ll gladly see to it, though. When would you have us leave, Sir?” 

“Ideally, I want to leave after breakfast tomorrow morning, but noon at the very latest.” Cordelia nodded, a thoughtful look passing over her face.

“I believe we can manage that. I’ll begin work immediately after lunch.” She said, returning the training lance to the rack. 

“I trust you live up to Robin’s expectations. You may choose your assistants and delegate tasks as necessary. I will be about should you need me.” She saluted and headed towards the bathhouse, her strides purposeful. 

“So, what shall we do? You don’t seem the type to just let everyone else do all the work.” Robin said, bending at the waist to stretch his back.

“Goddess no, we’ll be ensuring that the garrison is up to snuff before we move on to something else. For now, we have our midday meal and discuss mobilization with the others. This should be a smooth process, since this is a fairly small force. I trust everyone to prepare their own units for the move.”

“Do you always give your men this much freedom?” Robin asked, his tone surprised. 

“Yes and no. I give them responsibilities and I expect them to take it seriously. I give them space to work while always keeping an eye on things. People don’t have a chance to grow and find out what they’re capable of if you’re always hovering.” Zelgius said, his thoughts turning briefly to Levail. The boy had such promise and so much hope for the future. 

“You surprised me at every turn.  I fully expected you to be the overbearing sort.” 

“If anything I’ve been accused of being too lenient with my men. Those more old fashioned than myself believed that I was everything wrong with Begnion’s military. To them, I was too involved.” He was surprised to find himself speaking so freely, but he could see no reason not to talk about his time as ‘Begnion’s finest general.’

“I think that’s a better approach than whatever they were doing. I usually find that giving people space leads to better results down the line. They’re also more willing to work harder when it counts because they respect you and want to make sure they reflect well on you.” 

“Precisely. In the end, it can only be mutually beneficial.”

“The more time I spend with you, the more convinced I become that the Black Knight persona is only an act and that this is who you really are.” Robin murmured, his voice low enough that only they could hear it. Zelgius scoffed, shaking his head.

“The two are not mutually exclusive. No matter the part I play, it is still me.” Robin fell silent for a moment, pondering his words. It was strange to watch someone try so hard to find good in someone that was not worth redeeming, but perhaps that was just Robin’s nature. He seemed to be the kind of man who wanted the best for everyone. If nothing else, Zelgius could respect that.

***

Chatter began almost immediately as the news came out. Heroes talked amongst themselves, their sense of purpose renewed. Zelgius could feel the relief ripple throughout the room. No one liked being left behind, and they were called away from their own lives specifically to fight this war. He could understand how those that had something to return to might feel anxious to get this done and over with so that they could get back to it, but for him… there was nothing. Even if his master had succeeded, there would have been no future for him. Eventually, Ashera would have learned of the branded and judge them, too. This was the only place he had left.  _ She _ was all he had. 

His thoughts ground to a halt. Why had he chosen to focus on her so intensely? Had his loyalty to Sephiran died so quickly? After all he’d done for him, after all the nights he’d spent talking with him, gracing him with his company and understanding, he did this? She had no need for his loyalty, she had so many others that had pledged theirs to her. To her, he would be just one more oath sworn, but he’d been something else to Sephiran. He was a companion, someone who could understand at least a fraction of the loneliness he’d felt for all those years. Surely his heart was not so fickle that it could be turned by freckled cheeks and soft words alone. He’d always been his master’s most loyal servant, his most obedient pet. He was sure that if by some miracle they could be reunited, he would once again be at his side and whatever this was that he felt for Evelyn would die.

“General?” Zelgius shook his head, returning to the present as he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Zelgius asked, meeting Robin’s troubled eyes. 

“No, it’s nothing… it’s just that you haven’t touched your food and you looked so worried. Are you feeling well?”

“Of course, I suppose I’m just concerned about moving out. It’s always a little stressful, especially when the enemy is as active as this one. There’s no need to fret over me, I assure you.” Robin didn’t look convinced, but let the topic go. He would need to keep his mind on the tasks at hand, rather than allowing his mind to wander so. There was simply too much work to do and too many eyes on him for him to be off in his own head. He would have plenty of time to think later, when he retired for the evening.

***

It had been a long day, full of frenzied packing and more than a few arguments had broken out over the course of it. He’d had to put himself between Fae and Nowi just to keep them from tearing the kitchen apart in their brief moment of temper. He was grateful that Sophia had taken the younger dragon away, leaving him with only the sulking Manakete to contend with. His head ached and his patience was thin, but they’d managed to make it out unscathed. He sat heavily on the end of his bed, staring at his helmet on the armor stand. His armor was heavy and wearing it would be next to impossible his current state. Whether they wanted to or not, the healers would have little choice but to do something about it. He took a deep breath as a knock fell on his door, heralding their arrival.

“It’s unlocked, please come in.” Priscilla and Lissa entered, looking grim and displeased with the situation. He knew they’d wanted to allow him to heal more or less naturally, but they no longer had the luxury of waiting.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Zelgius? You get sick during normal treatment. This is going to be even worse.” Lissa said, fidgeting with her apron.

“I understand that, but we all know that I will be a liability if I leave this place in this condition. We cannot afford to leave me behind, I would never catch up; and I cannot do what I am meant to do with a cane in my hand. We all know this.” He said, his tone soft. 

“We do… but we don’t have to relish the fact that we are about to make you miserable.” Priscilla said, crossing her arms stubbornly. “When you came to us, you were so weak you could hardly keep your eyes open. We all agreed that we never wished to see you in such a state again, and yet here we are.”

“I know, my lady. I understand your feelings, truly I do. If we could wait, I would; but if I go out there like this, I will not survive. Even a farmer with a pitchfork could make short work of me, nevermind a trained soldier. Please, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” He watched as the two healers looked at one another, their discomfort obvious in the set of their shoulders. He sighed, knowing that what he was about to say could upset them. “Would you hesitate like this if I were one of your own soldiers, during your own war?” He could see in their eyes that the answer was no. They lacked urgency here. Despite being involved in the conflict, it didn’t seem as serious because it was not their country, their world. 

“You certainly know how to cut to the heart of the matter, don’t you?” Priscilla asked. “Very well, General; we’ll do as you ask. Forgive us our hesitation.” Zelgius shook his head, rising to his feet.

“There’s nothing to forgive, I understand that you truly only want what is best, and I’m grateful for the kindness you’ve both shown me. But… I’m afraid the choice is out of our hands now. Allow me to prepare myself for bed before we do this; I don’t believe I shall be up again tonight.” 

“Sure thing! We’ll wait outside.” Zelgius sighed as the door closed, leaving him alone once more. He didn’t like having to coerce them to get what he wanted, but at least they seemed to understand why he did it. He would have to ensure that their efforts weren’t wasted.

It was strange for bathroom he shared with Sigurd to be so empty. He’d gotten used to sharing space with the man over the few weeks they’d known each other, and to not see his toothbrush almost made it feel as if something was wrong. He took a moment to study his face in the mirror, noting the fullness of his cheeks and the few gray hairs that had sprung up. While the weight he’d gained needed to go, he would leave the hairs alone. There was once a time he would pluck them out, but now… he found he liked them. They were the only proof of his age that he had. He had no wrinkles to speak of and his body was still as spry as ever, despite the injury. He would remain in his prime for another decade at least; if other branded were any indication, much longer than any other soldier here. He had to have something that would speak to his experience, and a few gray hairs hardly impacted his appearance. 

His looks had been the one thing his parents had given him that he was grateful for. He’d found that being what others considered ‘handsome’ allowed him to mingle with society in ways those less fortunate wouldn’t. People were comfortable around him and in many cases, charmed by him. It had been helpful in the early stages of his master’s plans, and while he didn’t particularly enjoy it, he’d found himself adept at flirting his way into people’s good graces and that had allowed him to call in favors. He wasn’t sure that would prove terribly useful now, but he found he didn’t mind the idea of it quite so much as he once had. He rinsed his mouth and took a last drink of water before moving to dress for bed. He’d stalled enough. Lissa and Priscilla likely still had work to do.

“I apologize for the wait, ladies. Please, come in.” Lissa stared at him a moment before snickering as he returned to his bed, causing him to cock an inquisitive eyebrow at her. 

“Sorry, it’s just weird to see you dressed down like that. You’re usually so polished and well dressed.” His nightclothes were certainly nothing special, but he could hardly see why that would be cause her to laugh. 

“You’ve seen me in far less, and yet somehow you think  _ this _ is strange?” He asked, gesturing to his clothes. 

“Well, sure when you put it that way; but we weren’t really thinking about anything other than keeping you alive back then. I know you now, so this is weird.” Lissa shrugged, her pigtails bobbing with the movement. 

“I suppose. Shall we get started? No doubt you two have better things to do.” Priscilla smiled and nodded, gesturing for him to lie back.

“If it’s okay with you, we’d like to be able to keep an eye on you overnight.” She said, waiting for him to settle in. 

“Of course. Do whatever you think is necessary, my lady. I shall leave the door unlocked.” 

“Thanks, Zelgius. It’ll make us both feel better if we can check in on you every now and then.” It was strange. They shouldn’t care at all how he felt or whether or not this was going to cause him any harm, and yet here they were fussing over him. Perhaps they simply wanted to ensure that he was in fighting form come morning. It was unlikely that they cared on a more personal level, how could they? While they knew him in passing, they hardly had any real knowledge of him, and surely his actions were enough to condemn him. Yet… the way they spoke with him was filled with such fondness. 

“It’s… not a problem.” Was he wrong? Would he emerge wearing his armor tomorrow and find himself regarded in the same manner as ever? How could that be? 

“Relax, General. We’ll check your injuries periodically throughout the process to ensure that they’re healing properly, so please remain still.” Zelgius nodded and took a deep breath as he felt the first prickle of magic over his skin. They’d removed the stitches from his side only two days ago, but the area was still a bit tender and stiff. As the dizziness began to set in, he found himself wishing Evelyn was there to stroke his hair as she had in the beginning. It was soothing and let him focus on something other than how ill he felt. He missed her, he could admit that. She’d been so caring and comforting in the first week, allowing him to become more accustomed to his new surroundings than he would have otherwise. She’d encouraged him to walk about and explore a bit. She’d ensured that his neighbors were easy to get along with and calm. She’d done everything she could to let him do things at his own pace and never pushed for him to mingle if he didn’t want to, but perhaps the kindest thing she could have done was trust him and give him a purpose. He would always be grateful to her for that.

“I’m going to move your leg now.” He nodded, breathing through his nose as a wave of nausea hit him. Priscilla did as she said she would and he was grateful to find that it did not hurt as much as it had previously. “Not too much more, Zelgius. Just hang in there.” He nodded silently, grateful for Lissa’s cool palm resting on his forehead. “You’re a little clammy. I’ll get you some medicine after this, okay?” He nodded again, his throat itching as his mouth went dry. 

“Does this hurt?” Priscilla asked, prodding gently at his side, pressing against the bottom few ribs. He shook his head in response, not trusting himself to speak. “Good, it’s just the knee now. We’re almost finished. Would you like some tea as well?” Tea sounded nice. He usually found that it helped settle his stomach. He nodded tentatively, not wanting to inconvenience them further. “We’ll get you some, then. It’ll be a good opportunity for us to see how you’re reacting to this, as well.” 

He waited as she poked and prodded at his knee, bending the leg before they focused their work on him once more. He knew he would feel weak and sick, but it always surprised him; he didn’t envy those that had even worse reactions to magic than he did. He forced himself to focus on the steady beat of his heart rather than the building ache in his head or the way his stomach churned. It beat a little quickly for his liking, but nothing like it could be. They were being quite gentle, all things considered.

“Okay, Zelgius; one more time. Does this hurt?” He waited as Lissa moved his leg about, bending it, tugging on it, even wiggling the kneecap itself around. He shook his head, happy to see that all the discomfort wasn’t in vain. While the rest of him certainly felt worse for wear, his knee and side felt better than they had in weeks; there was no pain or stiffness. It felt perfectly normal.

“Good! That’s excellent news. We’ll get your tea and some medicine to help with the nausea.” Priscilla sounded truly glad. He kept his eyes closed as he waited for them to return, his stomach calming as he focused on breathing. He felt guilty that he wouldn't be able to help Nino with her reading, but the girl had been understanding and had brightened considerably after he'd promised they would resume the next night. He was surprised by how much she seemed to enjoy his company. She sought him out even outside of her lessons, often sitting with him as he worked. It hurt to think that she would stop once she knew the truth; he'd become quite fond of the lass. 

“I'm back! Let me help you up.” Lissa said, draping his arm over her slight shoulders. He was reminded briefly of the night he met Evelyn, but chose not to linger on that thought. She and Lissa could hardly be more different. “Here you go, here's your medicine. Priscilla's coming with the tea soon.” 

“Thank you, my lady.” He threw the draught back quickly, aiming for the back of his throat to avoid most of the bitterness. 

“Hey no problem! We're honestly happy you're going to be feeling better. You've seemed pretty depressed since you got here.” 

“Have I?” He hadn't realized that he'd been so obvious. 

“Yeah. I mean, I guess it's hard to tell since we don't know the other guy so well, but you've just seemed so down. I guess I would be too if I couldn't really do anything.” 

“I hadn't realized. I'm sorry for burdening you with that.” Lissa snorted, squeezing into bed beside him. 

“Nah, I don't mind. Sometimes we all need a little help.” Normally, he'd be uncomfortable with someone being so close, but he was getting more and more used to it. 

“Here we are! I brought us some tea. Sir Frederick was kind enough to prepare it for us.” Priscilla chirped, her mood lighter now that the stress of dealing with his injuries had passed. “He made a mint tea since it tends to be more soothing on the stomach. How are you feeling? You two seem rather comfortable.” Zelgius glanced to his left, chuffing quietly as he accepted his cup. 

“Quite. Thank you, my lady. I imagine I shall feel quite fine come morning.” 

“That's good. I was worried how you'd fare, but it seems that I was stressing over nothing.” She said, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “No fever. It seems that clamminess Lissa spoke of was only an immediate reaction. There are certainly those who do far worse.” 

“Poor Prince Siegbert was sick for three days last time he needed significant healing done. That guy really can't handle magic at all.” Lissa chuckled, sipping her tea. “Mmm, this is nice tea. It reminds me of a good friend of mine… I wonder how she is.”

“What about you, General? Is there anyone you miss?” Priscilla asked. 

“A few, perhaps.” 

“Did you have family back home?” Lissa sounded more enthusiastic about such things than he expected anyone to be. He truly wasn't very interesting as an individual. 

“Not really. I never married, and I'm not close with my parents or siblings. My patron is the closest thing to family I have.”

“That sounds lonely. I'm sorry…” Lissa fell quiet, seeming to ponder their conversation before perking up. “We'll be your family instead, then!” Zelgius choked on his tea in his surprise, coughing while Priscilla thumped him on the back. 

“I'm sorry?” He managed, sniffling as he recovered. 

“You heard me! If you don't have family at home, then we'll be your family instead. It's not fair for you to be alone.” Zelgius looked down at her, confusion and concern mingling together in his mind. He looked tentatively at Priscilla who smiled warmly at him over the rim of her teacup. 

“W-why would you want to do that? I--”

“Because you're nice. Do I really need a reason?”  _ Nice _ ? Surely they knew the things he'd done. Killing Gawain was; while a great mark of shame, possibly one of his lesser sins. 

“I don't think that's wise. Even if the two of you are willing to look past what  I've done, others will not be. I wouldn't want to see the two of you shunned for associating with me.” 

“If they want to judge you for something they've done themselves, then I'm afraid I don't want to associate with them anyway. To say that you are evil for killing a man's father when all of us are guilty of the same thing is hypocrisy of the highest degree.” Priscilla said, her expression serious. 

“Uh huh! And if anyone is mean to you, we'll stand up for you! I think Nino would agree with us on this, too and I know Robin does. He really likes you!” He was overwhelmed to say the least, but it felt good to know that at least three people wouldn't turn away from him. 

“I truly don't believe you need to worry. Those that will be cruel would be cruel regardless. Those of us that helped you that day do not harbor any ill will or even blame you. Please put it out of your mind, Zelgius.” Priscilla smiled, patting his arm affectionately. “As Lissa says, we are on your side.”

“I… thank you. You cannot know what that means to me.” He felt as if he’d entered some bizarre reality in which he could be forgiven, the feeling only worsened by Lissa’s elbow digging into his side. 

“Don't sweat it. Just keep being yourself and a lot of the others are bound to come around too.” He hoped they were right. There was no use for a general no one obeyed, after all. 

***

_ Sunlight streamed through the curtains, its golden light warming his face in a familiar way. It would be time to rise very soon. Any moment now, his brothers would come to wake him, just as they did every day. He didn’t want to get up. Maybe if he pouted and pulled the covers over his head, his mother would let him sleep a little longer. _ __  
__  
_ “Zelgius! Mama says it’s time to get up!” Zelgius groaned as his brother shook his shoulder. “No, don’t go whinin’ you baby. It’s time to get up.” Zelgius rolled to face his brother. _ __  
__  
_ “I don’t wanna…”  _ __  
__  
_ “Too bad, pup. We got too much to do.” His brother snatched his blanket, the warmth leaving with it. “Now get dressed.” Feeling defeated, he rose to his feet and moved to his chest of drawers, shucking off his shirt. “What is that?” _ __  
__  
_ “What’s what?” _ __  
__  
_ “That thing on your back.” Zelgius craned his neck to see but couldn't twist his head far enough. _ __  
__  
_ “I don’t see nothin’.”  _ __  
__  
_ “It looks like it’s been drawn on. I’ll go get mama.” Zelgius nodded, still looking. He didn’t remember anyone drawing on him, maybe one of his brothers did it. _ __  
__  
_ “Okay now what’s this all about?” Zelgius turned to meet his mother. _ __  
__  
_ “He says there’s somethin’ on my back, ma.”  _ __  
__  
_ His mother chuckled and thumped his brother playfully on the back of the head, gesturing for him to turn around. _ __  
__  
_ “Don’t tease your baby brother, you know how sensitive he is--” His mother went silent, as though the air had rushed from her lungs. “Go outside and get your daddy. Now, boy.” His mother closed in on him, anger in her eyes. What had he done wrong? He didn’t put it there. _ __  
__  
_ “What is it, ma?” _ __  
__  
_ “Quiet.” Her voice was strangely threatening, her lips pulled down into a severe frown, the rest of her face dark. Zelgius did as she told. _ __  
__  
_ “What’s all this fuss? What's wrong with him?” His father asked. His mother grabbed him roughly by the elbow, all but shoving him towards his father.  _ __  
__  
_ “Look.  _ **_Look_ ** _! He’s cursed with a brand. Our little boy is a damned half breed.” Zelgius didn’t understand what they meant. He was theirs, not anyone else’s. He’d been with them all six years of his life. _ __  
__  
_ His father was quiet for several seconds, his face twisting unpleasantly. He took him from his mother, silent as he drug him down the hall and outside. Zelgius struggled against him, he was hurting him. He was flung unceremoniously out into the yard, the chickens squawking as he landed hard in the dirt. _ __  
__  
_ “Papa?! What’d I d--” His question was cut off by a sharp pain in his stomach; a kick, the force of which nearly causing him to vomit, the second one making his ears ring and vision blur. _ __  
__  
_ “Don’t you  _ **_dare_ ** _ talk to me, subhuman.” He was lifted from the ground, his father’s large hands closing around his neck. He couldn’t breathe. He gripped his father’s wrists, kicking his legs uselessly as his lungs screamed for air. What had he done wrong? What did they mean? Didn’t they love him? His father dropped him, crying roughly into his hands. “I can’t do it. I just can’t do it… by the goddess he’s my son. Why my son?” His father grabbed him once again, dragging him toward the barn. He was thrown again, pain streaking through him as he struck something hard. “I can’t kill you with my own hands, boy; but nature won’t be so kind. This is where you live now; with all the other animals. You ain’t to talk to nobody, you ain’t to look at nobody. You do what we say when we say it. If you want to eat, you’ll work hard, and goddess willing the cold will free us from you before winter.” _ __  
__  
_ He didn’t understand. Hadn’t they always said that he was the best behaved? Hadn’t he been the one they’d had the most hope for? Where did all their love go? He wished he at least had a shirt to cover it. Maybe they’d feel better then. Maybe if he promised not to show or tell anyone, they’d forgive him. He’d work harder, he’d be better. He’d do anything if it meant they’d love him again. _ __  
__  
_ “Don’t be stupid, no one could love something like you,” a familiar voice jeered. _ __  
__  
_ “You’re a murderer, no one would want a murderer.” They were all closing in on him, their intent clear. _ __  
__  
_ “I left you because you weren’t good enough. You never meant anything to me, boy.” _ __  
__  
_ “You were never anything but a tool to me.”  _ __  
__  
_ He backed away, looking between familiar forms for any chance at escape, any hope of  salvation, but there was none. He was trapped and alone.Their voices faded as he felt fingers combing through his hair, a soft voice apologizing to him in that warm, caring way she had. _ __  
__  
_ “Come on, honey. Let’s get you out of here.” He turned to face her, as the scenery changed around them. His voice was momentarily absent as he found himself resting in her lap, her fingers in his hair and trailing over his cheek.  _ __  
__  
_ “Evelyn?” She hummed in response, warm lamplight catching in her hazel eyes. She was breathtaking like this. _ __  
__  
_ “What’s wrong, sugar? Bad dreams?” He nodded, breath hitching as her fingers trailed over his jaw and down his neck, her lips a scant breath away from his. “Bless your heart; do you need me to make it better?” He glanced expectantly at her mouth before meeting her eyes once more. He realized that she wouldn’t move until he gave her his permission. With a desperate whimper, he nodded, his eyes slipping closed as their lips met, warm and soft. Her hand slipped under his shirt, fingers trailing across his stomach, briefly over the scar left by his battle with Ike, finally coming to rest over his pounding heart. _ __  
__  
_ “Evelyn…” His voice was almost unrecognizable, his back arching as her lips trailed gently over his cheek, pressing soft kisses across his cheekbones and eyelids.  _ __  
__  
_ “Just relax, hon. I’ll take care of you.” _ __  


He jerked awake as her teeth closed around his earlobe, the unexpected sensation sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He woke breathing hard, his body still tingling with the memory of her touch. He covered his eyes with one hand, shame coursing through him. Why was his mind so cruel to him? First it tortured him with the memory of his past, and then with his longing for love in the form of a woman he could never hope to have. He forced himself up, making his way to the bathroom for some water. Water usually helped clear his head.

He could scarcely stand to look at himself. He was disgusted, and surely she would be as well if she knew. Any sensible person would be. His outward appearance wouldn’t save him or anyone from the curse that tainted his very being. If she knew, surely she would be repulsed; and if not by his heritage, his very nature. She could accept him as a soldier, she could use him as a tool, but she could never love him as a man. He was nearing his fiftieth year and still he had not learned to accept that truth. No matter what anyone ever said, their promises were only as good as their time together was long. He would  _ always _ end up alone.

***

He fastened his cloak and checked the buckles on his bracers once more before moving to fix his scabbard. The weight of it all felt familiar and safe, but his heart wouldn’t stop racing. He knew that this could either change everything for the worse, or it would be as Lissa and Priscilla predicted. He hoped for the later, but fully expected the former. He took a deep breath and nodded to himself. Nothing would get done if he simply hid in his quarters. They had a lot of ground to cover and their summoner was obviously anxious for them to join her. 

It was a short, and blissfully pain free walk to the main hall where all of the others were assembled and waiting for his orders. A hush fell over them as he pushed through the doors, his grip on his helm no doubt turning his knuckles white under his gauntlets. He allowed his gaze to sweep over the faces of those in the very front, taking note of their surprise before he allowed himself to speak.

“Good morning, all. I trust you rested well?” He asked, forcing himself to pretend as though nothing was different. He listened as they murmured their affirmations, most of them still looking at him as though they were seeing him for the first time. “Cordelia?”

“Yes, Sir?” She snapped to attention, her surprise gone as her training took over.

“Are we nearly ready to depart?” 

“We are. Last I checked, they were hitching the last of the oxen. We ought to be able to leave as soon as you order it, Sir.” He nodded, his anxiety lessening with the knowledge that at least their departure would be smooth.

“Excellent work. Now then, where is Ro-- ah. There you are.” Robin approached, his hair sticking up at odd angles, eyes tired. The urge to straighten the man’s hair and clothes was nigh unbearable, but he managed to turn his attention back towards the crowd. “Is there anyone else missing?” He asked, glancing around. The other heroes did the same, clearly checking to see if their friends and peers were present.

Zelgius paused as he felt a tug on his cloak, concerned by the apprehension he saw in the faces of those nearby. Was it an abnormally large spider? A badger? Why did they seem so worried? Finally, he looked down and back, finding only a barely awake Fae clutching his cloak in her small hand in an attempt to use it as a shield against the morning chill. She yawned and swayed on the spot as she looked up at him.

“I’m sleepy, General Zelgius.” She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It is very early, isn’t it? I’m sorry Fae. Perhaps we can let you nap once we're moving. Can you stay awake until then?” She yawned again, nearly causing him to do the same.

“I’ll try. No promises.” Zelgius chuckled as she let her head fall against his hip, facing back towards his comrades. The mood in the crowd had shifted dramatically. Where there once had been apprehension was now a sort of acceptance he’d never expected to receive. He spied Lissa in the crowd, smiling widely at him as Nino waved cheerfully. Perhaps there had never been anything to worry about after all.

“Well, I suppose we should get moving before we lose all the little ones to exhaustion. Let’s move out.” Sophia approached without fear, smiling softly at him as she coaxed the young dragon to take her hand.

“Come on, Fae. The General is busy right now, you may nap under his cloak another time.” He could scarcely believe that one child was all it took to make the others look past the Black Knight and see him as only Zelgius, but he would always be grateful to her. Perhaps redemption was not out of his reach after all.


	6. In Rememberance of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelgius and the others reach the Order's camp, but he finds that Evelyn isn't quite herself. He learns something of her past, and a part of his finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another long one. I wanted to do something else with the ending, but I just couldn't quite get it to work for me, so that's probably something that'll happen next chapter or something. 
> 
> A quick head's up: There's mention of a suicide. It isn't graphic, nor is it something that happens in the chapter directly; but as someone who has struggled with suicidal ideation in the past, I can't just let it go without letting you guys know about it, because you never know what might set someone off. While it's not unimportant to the story, it won't ruin your enjoyment if you do skip that paragraph, either.
> 
> On a lighter note, I am working on some vignettes that are set in this fic's universe. I need a place to put all my ideas that don't work in the project proper but deserve to exist regardless because Zelgius deserves more love.

Zelgius looked to the sky as he heard the sound of flapping wings as they bore Princess Tana back to them, her excited smile confirming their suspicions. They’d been on the road for nearly five days, and everyone was ready to finally be reunited with their comrades, and he was no different. He would be glad to see them all well.

“It’s not too far now, General. I’d say we’ll be there within the hour.” The princess chirped, slowing her mount to hover nearby. 

“Excellent, thank you Princess.” She grinned, her blue eyes sparkling with cheer. 

“My pleasure, General. How’re you finding the day?” He still hadn’t gotten quite used to how most of his comrades treated him, not without lies and secrecy hiding the truth from them, at least. Their acceptance had subverted all of his expectations, and those that were less than cordial were typically those that he would prefer not to associate with anyway. 

“It is a fine day, my lady. It’s getting a bit chilly, though. Are you and the others warm enough?” 

“I’m fine! The chill doesn’t bother me at all, it’s quite similar to my homeland, so I find it quite pleasant. What of you, though? You’ve been through a lot since coming here, I can’t imagine it’s been easy.” Zelgius smiled reassuringly, shifting slightly in his saddle. He missed the bright red armor he wore while in Begnion. It was less bulky and allowed for riding while wearing all parts, rather than stripping to half plate. Perhaps he could request something similar to it? There was no real reason to wear this particular set any longer.

“I’m well enough, Princess. My injuries have been tended to, and the chill is of little concern to me. My homeland is quite cold, I am used to it.” Princess Tana nodded in understanding, her eyes surveying him quickly. She was a sharp girl, far more so than her brother gave her credit for.

“I don’t mean to be presumptuous, General; but you were rather skittish when you first came to us. I imagine the change of scenery was stressful for you. The rest of us had the good fortune to expect our summons, you weren’t given the same courtesy. Have you adjusted to Askr?” 

“I have. It is a lovely place. The people here are well loved by their leaders and it shows. People seem happy and healthy. It feels good to be able to protect such a people.” It was certainly a step up from what Begnion had become. Daein would have recovered under Lady Micaiah, but there was little help for the empire under the current system. It was simply too rotten and easy for those in power to manipulate.

“Sanaki has told me a little about your homeland. It’s funny that you both had a very similar answer. She seemed very frustrated by the state of things at home.” Zelgius was surprised to hear his Empress’ name used so casually. She’d always been aware of her place in the world and expected everyone around her to respect it. The girl was under a lot of pressure to perform and had never had any proper friends her age. Perhaps this time away had allowed her to fix that.

“Yes, when I was pulled away things had taken a turn for the very worst. My Empress is a strong girl, but her toil has only just begun; she has much more pain and frustration ahead of her, I fear.” He would protect her from it if he could. His master would want that. Empress Sanaki and Lady Micaiah were precious and deserved to be happy. 

“The poor dear. She’s such a sweet girl.” It seemed that his young Empress had bonded well with the Frelian princess, and that knowledge alone gave him some relief. 

“She is, though I would never be so bold to say so in her presence. This may not be Begnion, but she is still my Empress.” Tana giggled, covering her mouth to stifle the sound. “Did I say something funny, my lady?” 

“No, no. It’s not that. Sanaki always spoke highly of you, and I can see why now. My brother could learn how to be a proper gentleman from you.” Zelgius cleared his throat, fighting down the amused grin that threatened to spread across his face. He knew little of Prince Innes, but enough to know the man was prideful and stubborn. He reminded him of himself as a much younger man, before he joined his master in Begnion. He too had been very aware of his own abilities; and just as he had been, prince Innes would eventually be humbled. It felt nice to know his Empress still held him in high regard, though. He only hoped her opinion wouldn’t change when they saw each other later.

“Thank you, my lady. That’s high praise indeed.”

“Tana, that’s enough. Leave the general alone.” Speak of the devil. Prince Innes’ voice was sharp and commanding, almost disdainful. It was nothing at all how prince Ephraim spoke to his sister.

“Oh, Innes. If General Zelgius wished for me to leave him be, he would say so. He’s a grown man, something you’ve yet to become.” Tana sniped. Zelgius groaned internally as he could feel the tension building. Why did he always end up stuck in the middle of other people’s arguments? It had always been thus.

“I beg your pardon? This is why I say you should have remained home. You weren’t ready then, and you aren’t ready now. You’re still a girl at heart.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who’s voice still cracks. Have you grown into that tunic yet, brother?” Zelgius tensed as their jabs became more petty. He didn’t want to get involved, but he knew that things would only escalate if he didn’t defuse the situation. He cleared his throat, glancing sternly at them both before turning back to the front, straightening his shoulders. They both fell silent, awkwardness hanging in the air. At length, Tana giggled. “I’m sorry, General Zelgius. I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in one of our spats. I’m going on ahead, thank you for chatting with me.”

“Of course, my lady. It was a pleasure.” He watched as she spurred her mount onward, sending them upward, once again acting as an airborne sentinel. It was a shame, he’d enjoyed her company.

“You needn’t humor her, General. Tana is childish and must learn that not everyone is meant to be her friend.” Innes said, his tone suggesting that he expected him to agree. 

“You give her too little credit, my lord. She is simply different from you. I advise that you try to understand her, rather than always trying to change her. You may run out of time one day, and you’ll wish you’d done so sooner.” He was surprised by the genuine chuckle that pulled from the prince. He’d expected anger or at least dismissal. 

“You sound like our father. He has told me the same thing many times.” 

“Perhaps you should accept our council, my lord. She is your sister, it is worth trying to find common ground.” He’d been robbed of his chance to be as close to his sister as he’d have liked, but his circumstances were quite different from man beside him. Pride was not an excuse.

“I will take it into consideration, General.” Zelgius doubted that he would, but at least their little argument was over. Princess Tana had many friends and that would keep her from being too hurt by her brother’s nagging. 

“Tell me something, General.” Zelgius hummed in response, meeting the prince’s cool gaze calmly. “What is your opinion on our summoner?” Zelgius took a breath through his nose, his mind turning to the dream that had managed to confound and concern him every moment he spent alone. The prince was not interested in his thoughts on her appearance or demeanor. He was much too practical for such things.

“I have not yet seen her in a combat situation, though I suspect that she is competent. Why do you ask?”

“I am simply curious. A warrior of your caliber would likely be able to size people up at a glance.” Zelgius chuffed, turning to look at the prince. 

“I believe she is worthy of our trust and respect. She has no doubt proven herself, just as the rest of us have. If you have concerns, perhaps it would be best to bring them to her attention.” Innes shook his head, holding a hand up to stop him.

“No, I have no concerns. If anything, I see in her an almost unnatural ability. It is as though she can see everything at once. Off the battlefield, she is as any of us are: only able to guess and attempt to make judgements from the patterns we’ve noticed, but on it? She borders on preternatural. Perhaps I only hoped that you could discern something the rest of us haven’t.”

“I’m afraid I’ve only noticed her behavior. I have seen very little of her.” Far less than he would like. He was intrigued by her, in spite of his better judgement. 

“That’s a shame, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Perhaps there is nothing to see and she is simply good at what she does.” The prince shrugged, his gaze returning to the path ahead. Just over the horizon, they could see smoke from cooking fires billowing into the air. It wouldn’t be long now. “Do you find her as odd as the rest of us do?”

“She… is unusual, yes. I do not think it’s a bad thing, she is simply different. The world she comes from is clearly quite unlike those we know.” He could glean that simply by listening to her speak and reading the books she’d found for him in the castle’s library. 

“Unusual is a soft word to describe her. I find her almost alien. No one I’ve ever met would call me a ‘stuffy little prick;’ not to my face, at least.” Zelgius snorted in amusement. She certainly didn't pull her punches. 

“Perhaps her blunt manner will do us well. She will be unafraid to tell us when we are wrong.” 

“I once saw her beat an enemy soldier down with a rock. There is very little she is afraid to do, I think.” He could see now why there were so many that chose to act as her personal guard. She was more willing than he’d expected to put herself in harm’s way. He would need to keep an eye on her. She could not help anyone if she were dead, after all.

***

“General Zelgius! It’s good to see you’re healed!” Princess Sharena said, grasping him by the forearm as he handed the reins off to a young squire. “We were worried that you’d still be on a cane when you got here.” 

“I apologize, Princess. I never wished to cause you trouble or concern.” The princess dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand, her smile still firmly in place.

“Nonsense! I want what’s best for you! But having you with us will be great!” He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by the princess’ cheer. She’d been the more friendly of the two Askr royals, though Prince Alfonse was hardly unpleasant. His calmer demeanor had been welcome in the early days. 

“Where is Lady Evelyn?” Zelgius asked, noticing a certain presence lacking immediately. He’d hoped it would be her greeting him. Princess Fjorm cleared her throat, concern in her eyes.

“She… has yet to rise. It is unusual for her to still be abed, but when we call to her, she doesn’t answer.” Zelgius frowned, worry sitting in his stomach like a stone. 

“She’s been oddly quiet for the past few days, too. She’s been eating in her tent and only talking to people when she has to. We’re worried that the stress is starting to get to her.” Princess Sharena added. “Maybe she’d answer you.”

“Has… the other one tried?” It was odd to speak of himself in such a way, and he almost forgot that there was another version of himself about, but now that he was back with the bulk of the army, he could no longer ignore him.

“He’s been acting strangely as well. I don’t think I’ve seen him more than twice since the two of them spoke with Loki… oh yeah, you wouldn’t know about that. He and Evelyn spent the night in town the day before she sent that letter. We’ll explain everything later, after we manage to get her up and about.” Sharena shrugged, motioning for him to follow. He fell into step between the two princesses, allowing them to lead him through the rows of tents. He didn’t like how she phrased that. It sounded too intimate for a knight and his charge. Surely he would have better sense than to get involved in any inappropriate way. He’d not allowed himself to grow too intimate with his master, and he couldn’t allow it here either. “This is her tent… why don’t you try getting her up, or at least see if she’ll tell you what’s wrong. We’ll be helping the others unpack and set up if anything happens.”

Zelgius watched as they walked away, back in the direction of the camp’s center. There was little reason for him to dawdle. If something was wrong, someone needed to know; and if she’d simply managed to oversleep, she’d likely appreciate someone waking her. Something didn’t sit right with him, though. From what he’d seen of her, Evelyn was lively and gregarious, friendly even in stressful moments. She’d never struck him as the somber type.

“Lady Evelyn?” He kept his voice even and at a respectful volume. If she weren’t feeling well, the last thing she needed was him bellowing like the entire camp was ablaze. “May I come in?” At first, he wondered if she’d not heard him. Perhaps she truly was asleep and simply hadn’t been roused; but before he could repeat himself, the tent flap was pushed open. He looked down at her, taking in the rumpled ginger hair and puffy eyes before it fully came to his mind that she’d been crying recently. 

“Oh, it’s you… I guess I should have known, huh? Come in if you want, hon.” Her tone was sullen and tired, her slight shoulders drooping as though weighed down by an invisible force. She wasted no time returning to her pallet, flopping listlessly against the pillows. 

“Are you well, my lady? Princess Sharena and Fjorm are concerned for you.”

“I’m fine.” Her reply was clipped, her tone almost angry. He knew well the irritation that could accompany constant inquiries about one’s health, but he could not say he believed her. “Is there anything else?”

“Are you not hungry?” He asked. She huffed and pulled the blanket up to her chin, covering her bare legs. 

“No. I don’t want anything to eat.” Zelgius frowned as he looked at her, concern twisting his gut. While he couldn’t say he knew her well, he had never seen her so morose. She’d always been quite cheerful and calm, but this was nothing like he was used to. This reminded him more of the days when his master would retreat into himself and shut the world out; or when he himself couldn’t muster the strength to carry on. 

“Is there anything I can do?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He knew he should leave her to her own problems and not pry, but he couldn’t help himself. She’d been so kind and caring to him, she deserved the same.

“No. I just want to be alone.” Zelgius hummed, coming to kneel beside her. 

“I’m afraid I cannot abide that, my lady. Would you permit me to sit with you, please?” He asked. Evelyn pushed herself up, her eyes tired and dull. He disliked seeing her this way.

“Why, afraid I’ll off myself? Don’t be.” She shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest. “I’m not brave enough to do that.”

“But you are brave enough to persist, despite the pain you’re feeling. Is that not commendable?” She huffed, pressing her fingers into her eyes.

“Don’t say shit like that. I don’t think I can take it today.” Her voice was thick with unshed tears, but she held firm, breathing slowly in and out through her nose. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this… I try to keep it together, but it’s just so damn hard sometimes.”

“You needn’t apologize for this. You are in a difficult position, and you are tired. May I ask what has happened?” He worried that the meeting Princess Sharena had spoken of had gone poorly.

“I’ve been off my medication for over a year. I used to be able to manage all this with medicine, but here I don’t have that luxury. It’s also my brother’s birthday today.” She said, sniffling slightly. 

“You miss him, I take it?” He watched helplessly as she took a deep, ragged breath, holding herself as she threatened to fall apart.

“Every damn day. He’d be the same age as me today, you know? We were twins. He was the one person I could tell anything. He’d give me shit, sure but he’d always keep my secrets.” It made sense now. She wasn’t sad because she wanted to see her brother, she was sad because she never could again. He knew that this was a sensitive, private subject, but he found himself wanting to comfort her. He wanted her to confide in him.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, my lady. Would you like to talk about it?” She was silent for a moment, as though pondering his offer, swiping irritably at her leaking eyes.

“Can I?” She asked, gritting her teeth against the tides of her emotions. 

“Of course. I realize that this is difficult for you, but if I can help, I would like to.” She nodded, using the sleeve of her shirt to dab at her eyes. She surprised him by taking his hand in hers, tugging shakily at the buckles of his bracers. He watched in silence as she freed one hand, and then the other. “Lady Evelyn?” 

“You’re gonna be here a while. You might as well get comfortable.” She murmured, working her way up his arms, pushing herself up onto her knees. He allowed her to continue on as she was, the task at hand seemed to soothe her. 

“You seem… quite competent at this.” He said, jolting as her fingers found the buckles and straps holding his cuisses in place.

“I’m the one that got you out of most of it when you first got here. Besides, it’s not like I don’t wear armor in the field. I don’t usually fight, but going out in nothing but robes wouldn’t be all that bright.” She said, sounding almost like herself for the first time since he’d arrived. There was an odd tension between them as she reached for the buckles on his cuirass. “I’m surprised you let me do this.”

“You needed something to occupy yourself with. If this helps, then I don’t mind.” She hummed, slipping her hand under his backplate, her fingers brushing over his brand. He tensed, his breath catching in his throat, earning him a confused glance from her. 

“You okay? Are you hurt?” She asked, her tone growing concerned. 

“No, no. It’s nothing, please put it out of your mind. I suppose I am simply unused to being touched.” It was true. His skin was sensitive to her touch, and even the slightest brushing of her fingers against his arm was enough to send a chill through him. His back was no more sensitive than any other part of him, but he was just so  _ aware _ of it. He remained still as she pulled away the final piece of armor, shuddering slightly as her fingers grazed his neck. She said nothing as she lingered near him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He took that moment to study her at length, his eyes sweeping over her square jaw and full mouth. Her features were sharper than what most in Begnion would consider to be ideal for a woman, but he found he quite liked her prominent cheekbones and straight nose. Her more angular face was softened by the youthfulness her freckles and almond shaped eyes lent her.

She cleared her throat and took a seat once more, her cheeks flushing slightly. He allowed himself to sit down beside her, waiting patiently as she gathered her thoughts. She took a deep breath and looked about herself, her mouth working soundlessly for a moment before she seemed to grow frustrated. 

“Sorry, I’m not good at talking about this stuff. It used to frustrate my therapist somethin’ awful.”

“It’s quite alright. I don’t mind.” She nodded, growing somber once more.

“Everett and I used to do everything together. After my daddy got hurt and couldn’t work anymore things got rough. Mama was the main source of income. We were used to daddy’s coal company pay so losing that was hard on us. Me and him took over parenting our sisters, since mama was too busy with the horses and daddy decided he liked drinking more than us. It ended up killing him when we were eighteen. His liver just quit on him and he wasted away in a bed, the selfish prick.” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head as she seemed to linger on her father. “I used to be a lot more mad at him, but now I just miss him. He wasn’t so bad. He never raised his hand to any of us, he couldn’t even bring himself to take the belt to us when we did wrong. It always fell to mama to whoop us; but god damn… did he have to do that to us? We couldn’t afford his bills, we could barely afford his funeral. There were nights when me and Everett just… went to bed so mama didn’t have to worry about feeding us.”

Zelgius listened intently, surprised and grateful that she would share herself with him in such a way. He was awed by her ability to be vulnerable in front of him, his desire to do the same growing by the second. Would he be able to share himself with her like this one day? He hoped he would; it was well past time he allowed someone close enough to ease his pain. 

“Everett and me both enlisted together. We were nervous, it wasn’t really our first pick if I’m being honest. I’ve always been against war. Politicians will sit there and preach nationalism and justice, and then behind closed doors drool over the money they’ll be making from it. They can afford to be like that because it ain’t them and theirs out there dying. It’s stupid kids that buy into their bullshit or people that don’t have better options. Everett didn’t have the grades for college, and we didn’t have the money to send me full time. I didn’t want to be like my mama, and Everett didn’t want to work the in mines, so the army was what we chose.” She huffed and allowed herself to slump against his arm, her head resting against his shoulder.

“I had wondered if you had a military background. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” He murmured. She hummed in response, shrugging slightly. “Did your brother die in the line of duty?” 

“Nah. Everett made it on and off the field alive for eight years. He was trying to decide whether or not he’d be going back when he bought it. He’d seen a lot of awful shit while he was out there; we both did, but women don’t see front line combat. Everything that happened to me happened through chance, his was part of his job. Honestly, I spent most of my time in the army doing relief work in disaster zones. He was the one that was really out there ‘fighting the good fight.’” Her sarcastic tone was punctuated by a gesture he assumed was meant to act as quotations and a roll of her eyes.

“Were you a healer?” He asked, trying to understand her position better. She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his.

“Nah. When I got to you, nothing short of a miracle would save you. I was in corpse business. When I was out on deployment, I was finding fellow soldiers; but normally I had the grim honor of finding bodies after natural disasters. Hurricanes, floods, fire; that sort of thing. I hated late spring and summer back when I was stationed in Missouri. Tornadoes were always awful to clean up after. Bodies flung into trees and lakes, tossed like toys into the street… and all the crying. So many crying people. Anyway… needless to say, I’ve seen my fair share of death.” 

“Forgive me, I hadn’t realized--”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you get to do what I did and not see some shit. I just… I wasn’t ready to see him like that.” It seemed she was finally ready to talk about her brother. Zelgius tensed as she curled into his side, pulling his arm around her shoulders. Unsure of what to do, he simply allowed it to hang there, his hand lightly resting on her wrist. “When I got hurt, I couldn’t really do anything anymore. I had trouble coming back to civilian life; I was depressed, anxious and constantly fighting myself over something I couldn’t change. I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I couldn’t see what was coming. Everett had always been the stoic one, he liked to keep shit to himself unless he knew he couldn’t hide it. He didn’t want to bother me, I think. He knew I was having trouble and decided to deal with it in his own. His wife left him for another man not long before he came back from Afghanistan. He’d been gone for about a year, came back, and found an empty house. The rotten bitch even took his dog. What kind of person fucks around behind your back and then takes your dog?” Zelgius shook his head, unsure if she was expecting an answer. “He didn’t want to live with me since I was dealing with my own issues. He didn’t want to bother mama and our sisters. They had my sister’s baby to deal with; so he got himself a little apartment.” She took a ragged breath and shifted fitfully. “Sorry, can we lay down? My back hurts.”

Zelgius nodded and allowed himself to be pulled down onto her pallet, waiting for her to settle in beside him. She curled against his side once more, one of her legs resting over his. It was odd and far too intimate, but he didn’t mind it. She was seeking comfort, and so he would provide it. Her small hand fisted in his shirt, her nails scraping lightly at his skin. He would need to ensure he didn’t allow himself to get too used to such things. 

“He’d lived there for about six months, I’d say. He’d seemed okay. Torn up and a little lonely, but that’s normal for someone who just lost their spouse. He went out with his friends, he visited our family. He didn’t just up and disappear, so I didn’t worry about him too much until about two weeks before he died. He called me one night, crying like I’d never heard him cry before. I could hardly even understand him through all his sobbin’. I finally got him to calm down and tell me what was going on. He told me he’d had a nightmare about something that’d happened overseas. I could understand that, so I sat up with him for a bit. He told me that he wished he’d just been a coal miner instead. He regretted all the death he’d caused, he regretted everything he’d seen and done. It went downhill quick from there. He stopped visiting, he stopped going out with his buddies. Two days before, he wouldn’t even let me in. I climbed in through his window on a bum leg and found him piss drunk in his kitchen floor. I don’t think I’d ever been more mad at him. He called me a few days later and I  _ knew _ . He kept telling me how much he loved me, promising me that no matter what, nothing that happened to him was my fault. I lived almost an hour from him at the time; I regret that more than anything. I should have made him move closer, live with mama, anything but live alone. He wouldn’t answer when I called, when I got there the doors were locked, the lights were out… you’ve never heard silence like it. He always had music playing to help him feel less alone, but he didn’t then.” She paused, her frame shaking as she began to relive that moment. Zelgius squeezed her to him as she sniffled, dabbing at her eyes again with her sleeve.

“Lady Evelyn…” She shook her head, taking a few gulps of air before forcing herself to continue.

“I checked the kitchen first, then his bedroom. I found him in his bathtub. He blew his own damn brains all over the wall behind him. None of his neighbors heard it, or maybe they just wanted to pretend they didn’t. No one wants to tell their neighbor’s sister that they’d heard her brother kill himself. You want to know the worst part about all this? I couldn’t even cry. I wanted to so bad, but it’s like all my training took over. I called the proper authorities and waited outside. I couldn’t stand to be in there. The men that came tried to treat me like I was some kind of fragile little thing that had never seen death before. I didn’t cry at the wake or funeral. I couldn’t, I was just too numb. My family treated me like I was some kind of monster, but really I was just in shock. It took me two whole weeks before I could finally come to terms with what had happened, and it was absolutely awful when I did. I threw everything I could get my hands on; broke my bathroom mirror, half of my plates, and a vase. My friend came home from work and found me sitting in the floor crying, glass everywhere. She didn’t say anything, she just forced me to lay down on the couch while she cleaned it up. We had a short talk about it over dinner, but after that, we never spoke about it again.  **I** never spoke about it again, until today.” Zelgius mulled over her story, allowing himself to approximate the things he couldn’t quite understand. He didn’t need to understand everything, only that she’d lost someone dear to his own grief and she blamed herself for it.

“My lady… will you permit me to speak out of turn?” 

“You don’t have to talk to me like that, you know? I’m no one special. You can say whatever you damn well please to me.” Zelgius frowned but chose not to press her. 

“What your brother told you was the truth. It is not your fault, and no matter how involved you were, if he chose to take his life, you were unlikely to stop him.” 

“You think I don’t know that? I might be white trash, but I ain’t stupid; but knowing don’t stop me from feeling the way I do.” His allowed himself to tug her closer, his arm squeezing her waist.

“It is true that our emotions sometimes overpower our logic, but I would hope that finally saying this out loud would help you see the lie in it.” He said, pushing himself up onto his elbow to gaze down at her. Evelyn met his gaze steadily despite the tears still pooling on her lower lashes. “Allow yourself your grief and then let it go. To do otherwise will consume you.” He had watched it first hand. It was what drove his master to such lengths, after all. 

“Zelgius?” He hummed in response, his heart leaping as her hand trailed up his arm and onto his shoulder. “Will you stay for a little longer? I… don’t wanna be alone, but I’m not ready to go out there and face them.”

“Of course. I will stay as long as you wish.” She had trusted him when she had no reason to do so. She had given him a purpose and kindness in spite of all that he had done. Just as he once would have for Sephiran, he would live, die and kill in her name. If all she required of him was his presence, then he would gladly give it.

“Thanks… you’re sweet.” His ears warmed as her hand trailed through his hair before resting briefly against his cheek. “Lay down, you’re making my arm hurt just looking at you.” He chuckled awkwardly but did as she asked, stretching out onto his back. She returned to his side, her hand coming to rest against his chest. He normally would never allow such contact, but she needed this. She needed a shoulder to help her carry this burden.

“How old are you today, my lady?” He asked. She’d mentioned that she and her brother were twins, so it stood to reason that if today was his birthday, it was hers as well. She laughed bitterly, tucking her face against his shoulder.

“I’m 28 today. If all my relatives are to be believed, I have two years before I’m basically useless.” 

“Why would they say such a thing?” Zelgius asked. Evelyn sighed, and draped her leg over his once more. Was this common where she was from? 

“They’re from a generation that believed that 30 was old. To them, I’m a spinster. In their minds, I should have a husband and kids already and the fact that I don’t by now means I won’t. It’s stupid, but it’s how they see the world.” He could understand it to a point. Perhaps people lived longer lives in her world, but for many people in Tellius thirty years was a long time. The fact that he himself even survived to see ten years of age was a surprise.

“Do you think that they are worried for you?” If she’d been gone for over a year, then surely they were. Her mother had already weathered the loss of one child, most didn’t do well with that. 

“Anna told me that our worlds don’t notice our absence. To them it could be like they just saw us, even if it’s been a year or more. Time doesn’t move the same here as it does there. So while it’s true that I aged a year while I was here, I really haven’t. When I get back, it’ll be like I was never gone.” 

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, my mom probably wouldn’t appreciate me disappearing on her.” Evelyn said, shrugging slightly. “She’s been pretty nervous since… well. You know.” Zelgius nodded in understanding, unsurprised that her mother was more anxious after her brother’s death. If he were in her shoes, he could imagine that he would feel much the same way. “I think she’d like you.”

“What makes you think that?” He asked, ignoring his embarrassment. He was being too enthusiastic. Evelyn chuckled, smiling sadly up at him. 

“She likes gentlemen. Say what you want about yourself, but you’ve got good manners and treat other people with respect. I already know exactly what she’d say if she were to meet you.” He didn’t want to be intrigued by such a hypothetical scenario, but somewhere deep down, he wanted it. Evelyn was out of his reach and it was pointless to dwell on such impossible dreams, but he couldn’t deny how light it made his heart feel.

“And what might that be?” He asked, nervous to hear what she would say. 

“Well first she’d want to know where you were from and who your parents were. That’s just her way, even if there’s no possible way for her to know you. Then she’d ask a bunch of uncomfortable personal questions. Then ask me why the hell I hadn’t brought you around sooner. It don’t matter what my relationship with a man is, if she thinks he’d be a good husband for me, she starts trying to convince us.” Zelgius coughed awkwardly, finding himself unable to meet her eyes. How had they gotten so comfortable together? When had he let his guard down enough for such talk? What was this feeling? Surely it was merely an effect of his contract with her, otherwise it meant that it was a genuine feeling of his own making, and that was both terrifying and inappropriate.

“Is that something she’s done to you often?” He had little reference for how parents behaved. He remembered his eldest sister being married to the son of a fishmonger, but it had been a match of necessity.

“Not really. I don’t usually bring men around, and I ain’t stupid enough to bring a woman. I’d never hear the end of it. Mama doesn’t take issue with it, but my grandparents would and they have a way of making shit uncomfortable for everyone.”

“I see. I suppose it’s just their way of showing how they care.” Zelgius offered.

“Yeah, I reckon. I think I’m gonna take a nap, if that’s okay with you. I sleep better when there’s someone with me.” Evelyn murmured, relaxing against his side.

“Certainly, my lady. I will remain at your side, please rest.”

***

She shifted slightly, leaning unconsciously into the warmth behind her. There was something so comforting about the weight of his arm around her waist; it felt as if nothing could harm her while it was there. It was the kind of security she’d wanted all her life, ever since she was a little girl. She couldn’t believe that he’d stayed. She’d fully expected to wake up and find him gone, and yet it was very clear that he had remained by her, just as he’d said he would. She forced her eyes open, finding them sore and tired after all her crying. She couldn’t quite tell how late it was, but she could clearly see light peeking through the flap of her tent, so it had to be at least noon. She sighed and resigned herself to the task of extracting herself from her nest. As much as she wanted to stay and be held, she knew that she couldn’t. It was inappropriate and rude to keep such a busy person hostage in her tent just because she was feeling a little sad.

She rolled to face him, her cheeks heating slightly as she found him still asleep. He really was beautiful. She admired his long lashes and full lips shamelessly, allowing herself to ponder how it would feel to kiss him for a moment before chiding herself for such a thought. They couldn’t get tangled up like that. She wasn’t doing either of them any favors by considering something so stupid, and even if he were made of sterner stuff than she was, being separated could hurt. Then there was the issue of whether or not he’d even  _ want _ someone like her. A man that looked the way he did could have almost anyone he wanted, and he probably had some beautiful mistress back home. She’d be a step down from whatever woman he probably had waiting for him.

She’d promised herself when she first arrived that she wouldn’t let herself get too close to anyone in Askr. That had been her choice even before Alfonse had unloaded his teenage angst on her and begged her not to; but like most things in her life, she failed miserably at it. First, Sharena had won her over with her endless enthusiasm and constant attempts to befriend her; she just reminded her too much of her own sisters. Then came Robin. He’d been invaluable in those early days and had taught her much. Slowly but surely, she began to make friends in spite of her better judgement; but  _ this _ was a whole new level of stupid for her. It was almost as stupid as letting herself give it up to a woman that was supposed to be their enemy. All that had done was make her want more and hurt a relationship she’d just managed to establish. Her knight hadn’t willingly spoken with her since they’d come back; and when they did speak, he was distant and irritable. Loki really was an agent of chaos, it seemed.

She reached out to brush a lock of hair away from Zelgius’ forehead, enjoying the silky texture as the indigo strands slipped through her fingers. Did it bother him when she touched his hair? She supposed it didn’t, if he hadn’t asked her not to. He never seemed uncomfortable or irritated; if anything, he seemed to like it. To her, it felt nice to be able to connect with another person, even if it were only for a second. She smiled softly, allowing her fingers to trail back into his hair, cupping the back of his head as she pushed herself up onto her elbow to press a soft kiss to his brow. She lingered there a moment, enjoying the smell of his hair and the smoothness of his skin.

“Mm? Milady?” He shifted back to meet her eyes, blinking blearily at her. He’d been sleeping very soundly, it seemed.

“S-sorry! I… uh… it was a thank you! Yeah. Thanks.” Zelgius covered his mouth, his jaw popping loudly as he yawned.

“Whatever for?” He asked, rubbing at his jaw to soothe the ache. “I fell asleep as well… I apologize for my boldness.”

“Don’t worry about it… honestly that was probably some of the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.” Her face burned as he continued to look at her stoically, his expression unreadable. He was just as hard to read as the other one at times, and she was jealous of his ability to stay so calm.

“I see… then I’m glad.” Not knowing how to respond, Evelyn chose to look down at his hand. It still lingered on her hip and she couldn’t help but marvel at the size of it. He didn’t seem aware that he was still touching her, since he hadn’t moved it, but she didn’t particularly want him to.

“How about you? Did you have a good nap?”

“I did, though I admit that I hadn’t expected to take one. I’d meant to stay awake and receive anyone that came by out of concern, but I suppose I was tired.” He said, his tone abashed. 

“I’m not surprised. Travel is rough and you’re only freshly recovered. It’s not unusual for that to be draining.” Evelyn shrugged, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

“My lady? May I ask you something?”

“You know you can. At this point, you could ask me just about anything.” She said, adjusting her shirt. She needed it to return it to him soon, but her knight’s shirt really did make for a good night shirt. 

“Well… I simply noticed that you seem to switch between formal speech and something far less restrictive. I was simply wondering why that might be.” His question caught her off guard. She barely noticed she did it anymore, and no one else bothered pointing it out.

“Oh, that? Well I guess it’s habit. I try to tone down the accent … I know it’s not exactly professional to swear as much as I do; it’s hard to be taken seriously when you sound like an ignorant hick.” She said, chewing her lip in thought. “Where I’m from, people tend to think the worst of you when you sound like I do. Whenever I’d transfer to new bases across the country; or hell even when I moved west after what happened to Everett, I had to convince people I wasn’t some kind of racist poverty monster that was coming to ruin their neighborhood. They also seem to think we don’t have shoes where I come from… not sure where they get that idea from. Shoes are kind of required for work and going to the grocer.”

“Your accent sticks out that much?” He asked. She was surprised to see him so genuinely interested in something so small.

“Well… yeah. There’s tons of accents all across the world, and they’re all pretty unique; and my country is  **massive** . There’s a lot of really distinct regions and with ‘em come distinct accents. Even mine is pretty different from someone from further south. The further west you go, the more homogenous accents seem to get. I barely even notice any where I live now, so I stick out like a sore thumb. Some people call it ‘cute,’ but honestly I find that pretty condescending. They don’t usually sound too earnest about it. If you sound like a poor, uneducated hayseed, they’ll treat you like one.” He frowned, shaking his head slightly.

“That’s a shame. I find your accent quite pleasant and your manner of speech is refreshing. It’s difficult to find someone who would be so earnest. I wouldn’t have you change anything about it.” Evelyn sputtered as her face and neck grew hot, her heart pounding as the hand resting on her hip moved, taking one of hers instead. It felt nice. His hand was warm, strong and all encompassing. If she let herself, she could imagine holding it as they walked down the street, their joined hands swinging slightly between them. How did he manage to say something like that so smoothly? 

“T-thanks…” Was he flirting with her? Surely not. To him, this was probably just being polite. She cleared her throat and decided to change the subject, turning the conversation towards him. It was easier for her to talk about someone else. “What about you? I don’t know if it’s normal where you’re from, but I can’t really pick up much of anything at all. There’s a little edge of something at the end of some words, but it’s not enough to really consider an accent.” He paused, seeming to consider his answer before chuckling quietly, his green eyes slightly sad.

“I have long since buried what I was. You know by now that I operated in two different nations with two very different ways of speaking. For such an arrangement to work, I couldn’t sound as though I belonged to either.”

“I see. I guess that makes sense. Where are you from originally?” She didn’t expect him to answer her. Even though he was far more emotive and open than the other one, he was still the same man. He had secrets and liked to keep them to himself.

“Daein. I spent most of my life there and only left after General Gawain did.” 

“I only know what everyone else has told me about it, but it sounds like a pretty harsh place.” She said. Harsh was an understatement. If Soren was to be believed, the place was bedlam.

“My homeland is a cesspool of poverty and racial violence, but I appreciate your attempt to be delicate, my lady.” 

“Your words, not mine. Yours isn’t the only one, though. Mine’s not exactly a rose garden either.” She said, shrugging sadly. “I don’t think anywhere is as nice and clean as they like to pretend to be. Even Askr probably has an ugly face that it doesn’t show to people. Its ruling class is probably just as exploitative, and its poor are probably just as abused.”

“Possibly. Does that thought anger you?”

“How could it not? I don’t like war, but I don’t bleed so that these motherfuckers can abuse the less fortunate.” Zelgius nodded as he listened, understanding her feelings all too well. He too had felt much the same only months ago. “But hell, it’s not like we can do anything about it right now.”

“Indeed. If we do not fight, then there will be no one left to help. Are you feeling better, my lady?” Evelyn nodded, looking down at their hands. He seemed to realize what she was looking at, as he pulled his hand away quickly, awkwardly sorting out his rumpled hair without meeting her eyes. She felt disappointed at the loss of warmth, but it was probably for the best. 

“Yeah… I feel a bit better now, thanks to you. You’re comforting, you know?” Zelgius cleared his throat and became far more interested in the pattern of her blanket than necessary; even in the dimness of her tent, she could see that his ears had turned. 

“I am only doing my duty as a knight… as long as I am here, you are my liege; and I will serve you in any manner necessary.” Evelyn frowned, concern flooding her once more. Was this man only happy when he was serving someone? Couldn’t he just let them have whatever this was? “Er… that is, if you’ll have me. I realize that you have many others in your service and anything I can give you already have, but I would be grateful to you.” Evelyn barely contained her chuckle. Seeing him feeling so unsure of himself was endearing.

“You’d be grateful, huh?” 

“I would. A knight with no master is nothing… and I no longer have one.” Zelgius’ tone was calm, but there was something deeply wrong with all of this. She’d seen this kind of desperation before, this need to be needed. He looked ready to beg her for acceptance at any moment, and she didn’t like how much the mental image enticed her.

“And what about later, when it’s time for you to go home?” She didn’t like the thought of that. She knew that returning him to his world would mean that he would die, but what else could she do? 

“I… am not sure I can.” 

“What do you mean? Everyone can leave when they want to. I’m not going to force you to stay here.” Zelgius shook his head, his face set in resignation. 

“Nor do I believe that you would; but… I have a hazy recollection of an exchange that occurred before I arrived. My life for any chance of ever returning home. At first, I thought it only to be the hallucinations of a dying man, and yet here I am.” Evelyn pondered his words, chewing her lip as she thought. If something else had interfered on his behalf and had sent him to Askr, then did that mean he wasn’t bound by the same contract the others were? If not, then that would make him her equal in every way, not a subordinate. “If I am unable to return… then there is no reason for my service to you to end, unless you wish for it to.”

“Zelgius--”

“You needn’t give me an answer right now. I realize that I have yet to prove myself to you, and the service of a disgraced knight isn’t the most… attractive prospect, but I hope you will at least consider it.” It almost sounded like a marriage proposal when he put it that way. What did she even say? He was right when he said that she already had the service of not just any knight, but the Black Knight, literally another version of himself that had already appointed himself her guardian. He wasn’t just going to shuffle over and make room for him; and the sheer desperation in his eyes worried her. Did he really see himself as useless if he weren’t serving someone? 

“Sure, I’ll think it over… but can I ask you a question?” He nodded in affirmation, waiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts. “Why choose me?”

“Because you are kind and fair. You have a good head on your shoulders and have goals and principles that do not oppose my own. You are someone I could be proud to serve.” 

“And what happens when it’s time for  _ me _ to go home?” Zelgius winced, his expression falling slightly. 

“I… do not know. I suppose I shall remain here, and serve in whatever manner Prince Alfonse sees fit.” 

“Why not just retire? You’ve been at this a while, haven’t you? Even career men retire from active duty eventually.” Evelyn said, shifting so that he had to look at her. 

“This… is all I’ve ever known, my lady. I would hardly know what to do with myself if I were to retire so soon. As long as I am healthy and can still swing a sword, I suspect I shall continue to do so.” Evelyn sighed, shrugging slightly as she straightened. 

“Fair enough.” Evelyn sighed, stretching her arms overhead. There was no reason for her to stay here any longer. Rumors spread like wildfire, and they both had work to do. She needed time to consider his offer, too. “Well, we should get up. I’m sure they’re all wondering if I ate you or something.” Zelgius chuckled, his mouth twisting up into an almost boyish smile. 

“Of course, my lady. We can’t have that.” Evelyn watched as he strapped piece after piece of armor on, his fingers dexterous and efficient. It took him little time at all to get everything back in place. “I shall see you again soon. Shall I let the others know you’ll be along?”

“Please.” Zelgius bowed at the waist, leaving her to get dressed. It felt empty in her tent without him and she found the weight in her heart settle in once more in his wake, but she couldn’t let it keep her in place. Everyone had to stop wallowing eventually, and he’d done a lot for her just by being there. She couldn’t let his effort go to waste.

***

His steps slowed as he made his way back towards the center of camp. He knew already that she would decline his offer. She already had his service in a way, and then there were the others as well. He was hardly special or necessary. He’d been disgraced and that would only sully her reputation. He’d known before he even asked that she would not want him, but his hope that she could prove him wrong had pushed him to ask regardless. He was a fool, and he had been presumptuous to ask such a stupid question. He was unworthy of a mistress such as her.

“Well, well… look who finally managed to drag himself out of the Summoner’s bed! I was beginning to think you’d taken up permanent residence between her thighs.” Zelgius stopped, gritting his teeth against the ire rising within him. 

“Niles, you may say whatever you wish about me, but do not disparage Lady Evelyn in such a way. We are in her service, it is inappropriate to speak in such a way.” He ground out, breathing slowly through his nose. He was hardly in the mood for this nonsense.

“Oh I would  _ never _ disparage her. Evelyn and I go way back, after all. I’ve been here since the beginning, you know? She and I have a healthy raport, and I happen to know that she would have laughed. You know how to do that, don’t you?” Niles asked, coming to stand beside him, leering up at him. “I have to say I’m a little jealous that she let you stay with her for so long. Most of the time, she doesn’t let anyone near when she’s like this; but you got to stay with her for nearly four hours. How ever did you manage that? You must be gifted with that pretty mouth of yours.” Zelgius scowled as he felt his patience wearing dangerously thin. Why did this little man want his neck broken so badly?

“I did nothing save listen to her troubles. She needed companionship and I gave it. No more.” He would never sully her in such a way. He was filth, unworthy of such things; the privilege of her company was already more than he deserved, the privilege of her pleasure was so far beyond him that he couldn’t even fathom it. 

“You’re one of those ‘a woman’s body is a temple’ kind of men, aren’t you? Old fashioned and rigid everywhere but where it counts.” 

“It is her temple alone. We have no right to dictate its rules.” Niles laughed, the sound surprisingly honest.

“Well said, well said. I misjudged you again, it seems. You’re just  _ full _ of surprises.” Niles chortled, falling blissfully silent at last. It was an easy one, with no pointed judgement or ill intent. Perhaps the man had finally decided to stop all his incessant needling. “You thought about it, didn’t you?”

“About  _ what _ ?” 

“You know what. Even you have to see that she’s beautiful, lonely, and ripe for picking.” Niles said. Zelgius frowned, looking disapprovingly down at him.

“I have eyes, Niles. Of course I see that she is beautiful… but must you phrase it in such a way? It’s inappropriate.”

“Oh please, I could be  **much** worse. Much, much worse. You didn’t answer my question though. You thought about it, I don’t know many men that wouldn’t have entertained the thought for at least a moment.” What did he want him to say? That he’d most certainly considered pressing her closer than necessary? That he’d shivered every time her fingers toyed with his clothes or brushed his skin? That he’d considered pressing kisses to her tear streaked cheeks until she smiled again? Or did he think him so base and animalistic that he would have claimed her for his own when all she needed was comfort?

“No. What would that have solved? She needed an ear to hear her troubles, nothing else.” Niles shrugged, a small smile still in place.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman? Or maybe just a eunuch.”

“We’re among the others now. Please try to behave yourself… you wouldn’t want to shame your lord, would you?” Zelgius asked. Niles snorted, a bemused smile spreading across his face.

“Fine, fine. I’ll try to  _ behave _ for now… though you don’t make it easy. You’re so very fun to play with, and now that I know the truth, it’s so much more enticing.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Zelgius scoffed, glancing about in hopes of spotting Princess Sharena and the others.

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that. Don’t you have anything crueler to say to me?” Niles was too close now. He worried that he may try to touch him if they stood there for much longer. Zelgius hadn’t managed to locate anyone he needed, but this was becoming uncomfortable.

“I’ll not stand here and abuse you for your twisted enjoyment, Niles. You’ll simply have to dream up crueler things on your own. Good day.” Zelgius allowed himself to walk away faster than perhaps necessary, but he wanted to put distance between them. The man was a deviant and seemed hellbent on making him as uncomfortable as possible. It was difficult enough to remain calm when he had his last conversation with Evelyn rattling about in his mind, he hardly needed anything else to put him on edge.

“Oh, General Zelgius!” Zelgius’ head snapped to his left, his eyes falling immediately upon Princess Fjorm and the others. He sighed quietly, happy that at least something was going to work out.

“Good day ladies, Prince Alfonse. I’m glad to have found you. The Summoner will be along shortly.” The three exchanged glances, concern clear in their eyes.

“Was she okay?” Princess Sharena asked, chewing her lip nervously. 

“She… needed time and an ear to hear her concerns. She will be fine, I believe; but I do suggest minding your tones and that you not prod her too much.” 

“Thank you, General. And… thank you for caring for her as you do. She has needed someone she could lean on. I hope you will continue to support her.” Prince Alfonse said, a gentle smile spreading across his lips, his eyes almost sickeningly sincere. The boy was serious and dedicated, but hopelessly romantic at heart, it seemed. When the time came for him to say goodbye to his lady, he would be sure to protect these children. 

“You praise me too highly, My Lord. I am only doing my duty.” Prince Alfonse looked ready to argue, but stopped short, his expression becoming uneasy. Zelgius tilted his head slightly, briefly confused by his shift in mood.

“So it was you all along, was it?” Zelgius froze, eyes widening slightly as a familiar voice reached him. He turned, fixing his expression into a stolid mask, despite the way his stomach twisted. He hadn’t expected to run into him so soon. He’d managed to avoid he and his companions before now.

“Ike. You look well.” What else was there to say? They were allies here, and there was no longer any reason for them to fight, not in his mind, at least. The boy had grown magnificently and in a way, he’d been so very proud of him; of the boy that could have been his brother, if things had been only a little different.

“You look… different.” Ike was just as awkward as he ever was. He’d always liked that about him. He wasn’t one for words, he didn’t have any patience for the nonsense of nobility, but he was gracious and polite in his own way. He could never say he disliked the boy.

“I am older. You look quite different as well. Less grown and more clumsy and unsure of yourself.” He said, his tone mildly teasing. The boy frowned, confusion marring his brow.  

“I thought you died.” 

“Hardly. I was… mildly inconvenienced at most.” It was almost funny watching Ike try to understand how he managed to escape that day. 

“An entire castle fell on you. You can’t stand there and tell me that did nothing to you.” Ike groused. Zelgius shook his head, smiling lightly as he knocked his fist lightly against his breast plate.

“It broke the enchantment on my armor and jostled me around a bit, but little else. I managed to warp away before it crushed me.” 

“Well, that’s something, at least. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you always were one step ahead.” Ike shrugged, his expression carefully neutral. “Am I the one that hurt you?” Zelgius chuckled, remembering their battle. It could have so easily gone either way, neither of them could afford mistakes. In the end, it was his own pride that had ended him, but this boy needed to hear that he’d vanquished a demon of his past; a demon that had since doubled in presence. 

“You were. You did wonderfully.” He said, smiling slightly. Ike nodded silently, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He knew that look. It was the look of someone who no longer wanted the revenge they’d gotten. It was the look he’d worn that day, as well.

“Sorry to interrupt you.” Ike left them as soon as he came, his pace hurried. It was likely that the poor boy was feeling conflicted and upset. He would have someone check on him later; they couldn’t risk low morale, after all. Green as he was, Ike had experience in leadership that would be valuable.

“Well, that was awkward…” Princess Sharena said, scuffing her boot against the ground. “Do you think everything will be okay?” 

“Ike is resilient, Princess. He will be fine, given time and space.” The boy that they knew was but a shadow of the man he would become. Ike would come out of this stronger, wiser and kinder. Gawain would be proud.

“You don’t think he’s going to pick any fights do you?” Prince Alfonse asked, watching Ike’s retreating back in concern.

“No. Ike can be impulsive at times; just as any youth, but he is no fool. I don’t believe there is any reason to be concerned about it.” Zelgius glanced up at the sky, noting the position of the sun. It was past time for lunch, but the quiet rumble of his stomach alerted him to his hunger. No soldier should go without eating, but he wanted to wait for her. Lady Evelyn had yet to eat, and in her current mood, it was hard to say if she would without prompting. Whether she accepted him or not, he would continue to serve her in any capacity he could. She saved him, the least he could do for her was ensure she had a full belly and a restful sleep.

***

Zelgius looked down at his supper, listening to the chatter around him. He could feel eyes boring into his back, but he wouldn’t turn to meet them. He knew that there would be those among his new comrades that would hate him, and they were well within their right to do so. As long as they didn’t cause trouble for Lady Evelyn, he would endure it. He looked to his left, watching her as she spoke with another woman across the table from them. Sonya, he believed her name was. She seemed to feel better since their time together that morning, though he could still see melancholy in the set of her shoulders. 

Despite how he wished he could, he could not take away her pain entirely. If he could, he would take every scar, every ache, every loss from her and bear their weight. He frowned as she smiled, the expression never quite touching her eyes. He couldn’t fix this, the best he could do was what he already intended to: serve and protect her. If he did his duty well enough, perhaps she would accept him, and he would be redeemed. It was as Gawain had told him all those years ago: trying and failing was better than never trying at all; and he intended to try with all that he had.


	7. Maybe, maybe, maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Order of Heroes advances deeper into enemy territory, battles become more difficult and frequent. Zelgius is forced to fight someone he'd always longed to protect and Evelyn worries over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long period of inactivity. I lost motivation and inspiration for this project for a little bit there. Writing is hard. I had a lot of fun stuff planned for this chapter, but it felt natural enough to end it where I did, so I chose to stop there so that I didn't overwhelm anyone; so expect a pretty light, comfy chapter after this one.
> 
> Anyway, please let me know how I'm doing. You can find me on Tumblr and Twitter, so don't be a stranger. Come watch as I awkwardly exist.
> 
> Tumblr:RadiantBard  
> Twitter: @Bard01072578

Zelgius watched as Evelyn clasped her hands behind her back, her eyes focused ahead as the scout rushed towards them. They’d expected to brush up against Múspell forces along their way towards Nifl’s interior; it would be impossible to avoid them, but he didn’t much like the look on the scout’s face.

“So? How is it?” Evelyn asked, her tone brisk and matter of fact.

“Numbers are in our favor, ma’am, but they’ve had time to set up fortifications.” 

“What’s the makeup of their force?” She asked, peering down at the map spread out of the table.

“Mostly infantry, I saw several mages and archers among them.”

“What about cavalry or air support?”

“I didn’t see any cavalry, but they do have a few wyverns; but all in all, they seem to be hoping they can simply repel us by rooting themselves on the spot.” The scout said, shifting from one foot to the other. Evelyn hummed, looking up from the map at last.

“Fair enough. What kind of fortifications have they set up?”

“They’ve dug trenches around their position, but otherwise they’re mostly wooden with a few waist high walls made of stacked stones. Nothing terribly masterful, but they’ll be effective at slowing cavalry.” The scout said. 

“Yeah, I didn’t figure we’d get to pull off another charge. They want to use our aggression against us this time. We’ll want to take a more tempered approach. Did you get a look at their commander?” 

“I did. A young silver haired lass.” Zelgius felt the color drain from his face, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He had always hoped that he’d never need to fight her directly, not when he’d always sworn to himself that he would protect her.

“You okay, hon? You look a little pale.” He jumped as he felt Evelyn’s hand against his wrist, his mind returning to the present. 

“Of course, My Lady. I apologize… I was lost in thought.” He smiled reassuringly at her, despite the lump in his throat. Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, her hand still gripping him.

“Do you know something about this girl?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. 

“Perhaps, if she is who I think she is. Tell me, was there a young man with her? Reasonably tall, slender in build?”

“Yes, there was. Emerald hair and a grumpy face.” Then it really was her. Daein’s hope for salvation had been forced to serve their enemy. Zelgius clenched his jaw, anger swelling within him. This could not stand.

“Zelgius? You’re making a scary face there honey, is everything okay?”

“Forgive me, but I am certain now that my instincts are correct.” He said, glancing down at the summoner. 

“You two must have a history if you’re making that kind of face. Have you fought her before?”

“ **No** .” His tone was sharper than intended, but the very idea of clashing with Lady Micaiah made him feel ill. “I… fought with her for a time.” Understanding passed over Evelyn's face, the hand holding his wrist squeezing gently. 

“I see. Well. If we can break the contract binding her to Embla, she won’t have to fight anymore. And with luck, she’ll come help us instead.” He knew this to be true already, she’d take time to explain how these things worked; but the idea that she had to get hurt at all made him angry. He and his master had both agreed that she and Empress Sanaki were to be protected at all costs, their safety and well being among their highest priorities. He had considered abandoning his master for Lady Micaiah’s cause, and a large part of him regretted not doing so. Things could have been so different.

“Indeed… I swore to protect her. To see her forced to fight in such a way is sickening… and knowing that I will have to face her as her enemy is salt in the wound.” 

“I’m sorry honey. It’s not easy, I know. ” Evelyn shrugged, her expression hardening, her eyes turning back to the map on the table. “For now, try to keep your mind on the task at hand, and since you know how she operates, you’re going to be invaluable.”

“You wish to use my knowledge against her?”

“That’s the plan, yeah. What you know might help us end this more quickly and with fewer casualties on both sides. That a problem?” Her tone was oddly sweet for the subject at hand, and it surprised him how very cold she could be. He’d only known her to be kind, but this was fitting. She was in a difficult position, after all. Such rationale befit a tactician.

“Not at all, I’m simply surprised.” He said, turning his attention to her more fully.

“Why’s that? Didn’t think I had the brass to do my job?” He chuckled as he watched her place her hands on her hips, craning her neck to look up at him. Her expression was serious, but he could see the tell tale playfulness in her eyes. 

“You’ve certainly proven me wrong,” he said. She grinned, nudging him gently with her elbow before turning back to the scout.

“Thank you. I need you to send Prince Alfonse and the others here, if you will.” 

“Of course, ma’am. Right away.” They watched as the soldier sped away, leaving them alone for the time being.

“I know you don’t like the idea of fighting her, and I’m sorry if this is upsetting for you; please don’t think I’m doing it to be cruel.” Her somber tone surprised him. Why should she apologize to him? He was only a soldier, meant to do what he was told. This was hardly worse than the things he’d done as a young man.

“You needn’t apologize, My Lady. I understand; truly I do,” he hesitated briefly before placing his hand over hers on the table, “and I could never think you cruel.” Her cheeks colored slightly as they searched each other’s eyes, her rosy lips parting as if to speak. 

“We came as soon as we--sorry, are we interrupting something?” Evelyn jerked her hand away, shoving it into the pocket of her robe as the others arrived, clearing her throat a few times as she turned to greet them.

“Not at all! No, we were just uh… discussing our plan of attack.” Zelgius held his gaze steady as Prince Alfonse looked between the two of them, his expression befuddled. He hadn’t meant to put her in such a position; he needed to mind his distance in the future. It was inappropriate to allow anyone to make assumptions about their relationship. 

“I… see. Very well, then. Please, explain.”

***

His eyes swept over the field, making note of the fortifications and troop formation. The terrain was fairly flat, which at least prevented their enemy from having favorable positioning, though he couldn’t say he quite liked the sheer number of mages. He checked the buckles of his vambraces and patted the small pouch tied to his belt to ensure it was still there. Warp powder was a useful tool and allowed him to get around quickly, but he didn’t enjoy how it weakened him. Thankfully, at such short distances the effects would be minimal.

“You ready to go, honey?” Evelyn asked, coming to stand beside him. He turned to look at her, his eyes trailing over her armor with quiet interest. It was far more like Robin’s than the royalty of Askr. He preferred to see her hair loose and lightly tousled from the breeze, but the utilitarian braid certainly made more sense given the circumstances. 

“I am. The troops are in position and ready to advance on your order. I have instructed General Seth to cut wide to the left while Lord Sigurd takes the right; this will divide their attention and make our advance easier.” 

“They’re mostly taking mages and archers of their own, right? As much as I trust those two, they can’t get close enough to get a decent hit in.” She asked, reaching out to shush her horse as he tossed his head nervously.

“Yes, though I’ve warned them to keep out of Lady Micaiah’s range. She possesses magic meant to counter cavalry and heavy infantry specifically… I shall need to approach with caution as well.”

“Well don’t you go dying out here. I can revive you, but I’d rather not need to do that. I’ve heard it’s  _ unpleasant _ ,” she said, hauling herself into the saddle. She looked at home on horseback, not unlike a well trained cavalier. “Come back unharmed, y’hear?”

“I would never disobey a direct order, My Lady.” Her lips quirked up briefly before she turned her mount around, nudging him forward.

“Then do what you’ve gotta do. I’ll send in your air support once the archers are thinned out.” He turned back to the front, glancing to his left and right to check with his peers. When they nodded in affirmation, he rolled his shoulders and gave them the signal to advance. Lady Micaiah was clever, but she could not hope to account for his presence. She knew of the other one perhaps; the one that had yet to know her, but not him. She had a talent for surviving unfavorable odds, and so he would need to be insurmountable. 

***

Zelgius watched as the cavalry flanked the enemy’s position, arrows and magic raining down on both sides. He glanced down as he felt someone nudge his arm, fighting down the urge to brush away the offending hand as Hector smiled up at him.

“Time for us to go?” He asked, his brashness tempered only slightly by the seriousness of battle. 

“Soon. We must wait for their commander to engage.” He said. Lady Deirdre had agreed to take up that duel. She was unlikely to fall to Lady Micaiah’s assault, and would be well protected by the others. Even the Silver Haired Maiden could not ignore a barrage of magic being hurled her way.

“Will Deirdre be okay? I don’t want anything to happen to her…” Zelgius glanced behind him at the young girl who had spoken. Her green eyes were wide and earnest, her unruly blonde hair peeking out from under her helm. She’d introduced herself as Amelia, and had reminded him much of Levail when they’d first met: young, wide eyed, and intimidated by his very presence. She was clearly still quite green, though Hector had assured him of her ability.

“I cannot promise that any of us will be okay, but I can say that we stand a fair chance. Allow Lady Deirdre to do what she must, and things ought to play into our hands.”  He watched the battle unfold and nodded to himself as he saw the halo of light rise above the battlefield and crash down onto the object of their conversation. 

“There it is, it’s time to go.” He took one more glance about the battlefield and donned his helm, leading his troops into the fray. Thanks to their fortifications, their enemy was defended from charging cavalry and arrows would be less effective, but they balanced on a razor’s edge. If they tried to flee or meet them head on, they opened themselves up for attacks on multiple fronts; meanwhile staying where they were protected them from much, but it also meant that they would have to repel them time and time again, and unfortunately they didn’t have the numbers to play the long game. This was meant to be a diversion, something to slow them down. Muspell didn’t intend for this force to defeat them, only to stall them; and that was one more reason that this insult to Lady Micaiah could not be tolerated.

Around him, his comrades rushed to meet their enemies, grunts and cries of pain mingling with the sound of clanging steel to create a song he knew well. He barely thought about the lives he took anymore, it had been far too many years to consider it. These people would leave behind families and lovers, and he could no longer feel sorry. 

He snorted as he heard a knife clang off his left pauldron. It didn’t take long for Sothe to engage, it seemed. He needed to get a little closer before he could deal with the boy, but in the meantime, it seemed he had no shortage of throwing knives to waste on him; though if he were throwing them his way, it meant that Deirdre was safer.

“Back again, are we?” Sothe called, lobbing another knife his way. It seemed that he’d tangled with the other one a time before, which boded ill. If he’d gotten close enough to strike at him, then Evelyn had been in danger, which he would not allow. “Did you leave your summoner unattended?”

“She is well guarded, I assure you.” He was almost close enough now that he retaliate or use the warp powder with minimal side effects; it all depended on what the boy did next. Zelgius continued to advance as those around him became embroiled in combat with those within the fortifications as they rushed to stop them, but his business was not with them. They were a waste of his time, and would only slow him down. He had much more important work to do.

“Did I leave a scar?” Zelgius paused a moment, his jaw clenching. So he had harmed her, then? He’d not noticed any new marks upon her, so it stood to reason that he’d not done any lasting damage, but that was hardly the point. Rather than reply, he dipped into the pouch, allowing the powder to coat his gloved finger before striking his thumb and middle finger together in a snapping motion as he focused on the boy ahead of him. He knew that he could not kill him due to his very nature in this world, but he could certainly make him wish he had. As the fine powder burned away, the magic within it sent him towards his goal. 

He ignored Sothe’s startled yelp and brought the back of his hand across his face hard enough to send him sprawling before bringing his foot down onto his stomach. He heard Lady Micaiah call out for him before she yelped in pain and was forced to once again go on the defensive. She would be of no help to him.

“No, you didn’t; though the fact that you tried is reason enough for me to grievously harm you,” He growled, bearing down on his ribs. Sothe struggled under his weight, weezing as he applied more pressure. “I’ve told you before; you need to be stronger than me if you wish to protect her, and yet here you are; once again too weak to do what you say you will. Your pride will be her demise, boy.” Zelgius said, striding over him towards Micaiah. She was exhausted from her fight with Deirdre, and had little strength left at this point. She likely wouldn’t be able to conjure anything more powerful than a wisp now, just as they’d hoped. 

“Sir Knight… it really is you,” She panted, looking sadly up at him. He regretted where this had led, but he had a duty to fulfill.

“Yes. Forgive me, Maiden; but we seem to be at odds.” 

“I know… I’m bound by a contract, I can’t refuse it.” Sothe tried his best to shove himself between them, but was easily brushed aside.

“I’m aware of your situation. We will see to your freedom, but I’m afraid that means I must harm you. Forgive me.” 

“Thank you, Sir Kni--Zelgius. I hope we can be allies again soon.” Zelgius nodded and stepped away as he unsheathed his blade. 

“I will make it quick, if you two would stand close, you may go together.”

***

The camp was buzzing with a hesitant kind of cheer as soldiers began to prepare for the night. The skirmish had been difficult and they’d certainly had more than a few casualties on their side, but it felt good to know that they’d pulled through in spite of it all. They would be able to move on come morning and face whatever else was thrown their way, and that was enough to keep morale up, at least for now.

Zelgius jolted as he felt someone take his hand, though his moment of confusion passed as he met a pair of hazel eyes. Of course it would be her, who else would touch him in such a way? She pulled her hand away quickly, as though touching him had burned her, though she didn’t turn away her gaze. 

“Sorry to startle you, honey; I just don’t have the voice for shouting right now.” She rasped. She’d been calling out orders all day and it seemed to have fatigued her voice. 

“All is well, My Lady. Have you had some tea to soothe your throat?” He asked, offering her his arm, which she gladly took. “I’m certain I could find something in our rations if you’d like.”

“I haven’t yet, but I won’t say no if you’re offering to join me. I’ve got something I want to talk to you about, anyway.” He’d figured she’d not sought him out for no reason, though he would have been more than happy simply to speak with her.

“I would be honored to join you for tea. I hope the matters you wish to discuss aren’t anything I should be terribly concerned about. Are you… feeling well?” She knew what he meant. He was still quite worried for her.

“I’ll make it, sugar. It’s not like I ain’t been dealing with it for years. It’s nothing so heavy, so don’t fret over it; we’ll talk about it when we’re alone.”

Alone? She claimed it was not such a heavy topic, and yet wanted to speak with him alone? What could she need to discuss that would be inappropriate for eavesdroppers to overhear? Was this about what he’d asked her? Or was she going to reprimand him for shaming her in front of the Prince and the others? He would take any punishment she gave him of course; he’d acted without thinking and it had been inappropriate for him to touch her in such a way, but he truly hoped that she would forgive him his foolishness. He’d wanted only to reassure her.

“You okay?” He blinked a few times, pulling his mind back to the topic at hand. He was getting ahead of himself, he didn’t know what she wanted to talk about yet. Just as he shouldn’t assume that their earlier closeness meant he could touch her casually, he also couldn’t assume he knew her intentions. 

“Of course. Let us find our tea and a quiet place to talk, My Lady.”

***

He tried to still his nervous hands as the flap of his tent swung closed behind them. Evelyn had been in his private space very rarely, yet he’d held her as they slept and listened to her story. Being so nervous about having her in  **his** tent was silly after such a thing. They took a seat at his small table and sipped their tea in silence as she seemed to be gathering her thoughts. His heart pounded in his chest as she turned towards him, her eyes surveying him shrewdly.

“How are you doing?” She asked. He tilted his head in confusion, his brow crumpling as he tried to understand why she would ask, or why she would even care. What had he done to make her think to ask?

“I’m quite well, My Lady. My wounds have healed and I shall be well rested come morning. Have I done something to trouble you?”

“You just had to hurt someone you care about. That doesn’t bother you? It seemed to be bothering you an  _ awful _ lot earlier today.” She said, placing her hand on his forearm. He fought down a shiver as her warmth seeped into his skin and his instincts screamed at him to move away; a command that he ignored.

“Ah… please, put it out of your mind, My Lady. I am a soldier, I would not disobey or question the orders given to me.” Evelyn’s mouth drew into a thin line, her eyes narrowing.

“It’s just me here, you don’t have anyone to put on airs for. Tell me honestly now. _ Are you okay? _ ” He thought a moment, considering how he felt about the events of the afternoon and found himself at peace, at least mostly. He knew that they were fine, that they would return again and they would once more have to strike them down; but that doing so would free Lady Micaiah from her servitude. He could look beyond his knee jerk reaction and see the truth of the matter now, and so he felt fine.

“Truly, I am fine. I know that what we did was necessary, and that she will be fine once all this is said and done. I did what I was told to do, and in doing so helped her. That is all I can hope for.” Evelyn sighed and nodded, slumping against her chair as she sipped her tea. “Are you tired, My Lady?” 

“A little, maybe. I just… need a minute.” Zelgius watched as she held her cup in both hands, her eyes falling closed. It seemed that she was far more tired than she wanted to admit.

“Did you not get enough sleep? Perhaps you should take a nap. You may rest here, if you wish.”

“I slept fine, I think it’s just stress,” she said, finishing her drink. 

“Even so, a nap may do you well. You should rest while you can.” He watched as she seemed to consider his offer, glancing at his cot and then back at him.

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Of course, My Lady. I’ll not let anyone disturb you,” he said. She nodded, moving to unlace her boots. He rose to his feet and dug a clean rag and the bottle of oil out of his pack. He would clean his armor while she rested, it would keep him occupied, but not so much so that it would be impossible to get his attention.

“Thanks, Zel. I owe you one.” He paused a moment, slowly coming to the realization that she was talking to him. He’d never heard his name shortened in such a way, but he found he liked it. It made it feel as though they were friends, or at least something akin to it.

“Not at all. I am more than happy to share my bed.” He flushed at the way that sounded. It could come off as though he were insinuating something. “Er… I mean…”

“I know what you meant, don’t worry about it. Wake me up in a few, okay? I don’t need to be sleeping for the rest of the day.” Zelgius cleared his throat and forced himself to regain his composure. He was lucky she was so understanding. There were those among the court that would have had him beaten for such a slip up.

“Of course, My Lady.” He watched as she fussed with his blankets a moment and turned onto her side, her arms wrapping around his pillow. His mind wandered briefly to the day he and the others arrived and how she’d curled against him. He shook his head and began to arrange the pieces of armor on the ground at his feet. He couldn’t let himself linger on that for too long. He’d liked it more than he should, and thought of the way she felt pressed against him too often. Even now, he longed to return to it, his arm draped around her waist, her hands fisted in his shirt.

Just as he’d feared he would, he was beginning to crave her touch. Every time her fingers combed through his hair or came to rest upon his arm made him feel warm. He knew he needed to do something about the desires stirring within him, but he didn’t know what. His first instinct was to destroy them, but the fear that doing so would only harm them both kept him from trying to do so. His only other option was to try to ignore them, but Evelyn was not a woman that was easily ignored. 

***

“General Zelgius? Are you in?” Zelgius looked up from his book at the sound of a familiar voice. He marked his page and stood, parting the flap for the girl.

“Good day, Nino. Are you well?” 

“Uh huh! I was just… hoping we could read for a little while,” She said, hopefulness in her eyes. He glanced behind him at his cot, smiling softly at the woman still soundly asleep there. Surely it would be fine if they kept their voices down. She seemed a heavy sleeper, at least.

“I don’t see why not. We must be quiet, though.”

“Is that… Evelyn?” Nino asked, her tone incredulous. 

“It is. We were discussing today’s skirmish and she grew tired,” he murmured, motioning for her to follow.

“Is she okay?”

“I believe so. She is under a great deal of stress right now, Commander Anna and the others expect much from her. If she needs a quiet place to rest, then I will oblige her.” Nino looked between he and Evelyn, her expression thoughtful.

“Okay. If you think she’s fine, then she probably is. What were you reading?” She asked, glancing at the book on the table.

“Try to sound out the title.” He offered, smiling softly at her as he returned to his seat. She mouthed the words quietly before trying to say the aloud.

“Great Expectations?” Zelgius smiled at her, nodding proudly. She’d improved vastly in the past few weeks, far faster than he’d anticipated.

“Lady Evelyn insisted I read it, she claims it’s one of her favorites. I know precious little about the geography of her world, so the names of the cities mean almost nothing to me, but the story itself is quite enjoyable.”

“What’s it about?” Nino asked, plopping down into the extra chair.

“Why don’t we read it together, instead of me spoiling the story for you? Come closer, I shall help you through it.” Nino wasted no time in scooting her chair closer, her smile beaming as she did so. He allowed her to lean into his side, his arm coming to rest around her small shoulders as she took the book and turned to the first page. He had come to enjoy their time together. Watching her learn and become more confident was a wonderful thing, and he was grateful she shared it with him.

Had Gawain felt the same? Had there ever been even a flicker of pride as he watched him? Had he ever cared? He wanted to believe that there had been a time when the man had thought kindly of him. Once, a long time ago, he’d thought that maybe he’d found someone who cared for him, who saw him for what he was: a frightened child who hadn’t known love in many, many years; but it seemed that he’d been wrong. Or perhaps it was simply that he’d done something wrong. It was too late to ask now. He would never know what he’d done that had kept the man he had longed to call father from telling him goodbye. 

He’d not known where he’d gone or why at the time, only that he’d left. He’d blamed himself entirely that day, believing that it could have only been because he’d been annoying and needy. He’d needed love so badly that he’d driven away the only person who seemed willing to give it. It was with great relief that he’d learned later that his leaving hadn’t been his fault, though he still carried the pain of rejection with him, even now. He was dragged from his memories by the sound of sniffling beside him and watched in silent concern as warm tears dropped onto the pages of the book.

“Nino?” He asked, his hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder. Her voice wavered and she stopped reading, hiccupping slightly. “What’s wrong, lass?”

“I’m s-sorry. I w- I was just remin-ded of my mother.” Zelgius glanced at the page she’d been reading from and found sorrow welling up within him. The terrible shrew of a woman young Pip was raised by had reminded this girl of her mother? 

“Shhh. You needn’t apologize, my dear. Take your time.” His voice felt strained, as though her crying was contagious. How long had it been since he’d cried? He couldn’t remember, though he’d done enough of it in those early days, locked in a dark closet and deprived of light, food, and touch. 

“I j-ust w-w-wanted her to l-ove me!” He could stand it no longer. He could not sit by idly while she cried like that, for the same reasons he still hurt as a grown man. He pulled her into his lap, his arms enveloping her. He rocked her gently, patting her back as he did so. He had vague memories of his mother doing this for him, before things changed and she could no longer stand to see him. Nino cried and hiccupped into his neck, her tiny hands fisted in his shirt. 

He had no idea how long they stayed like that. It could have been hours, or only moments; but she finally stopped crying and simply sat there, exhausted. He felt tired, as well; his eyes stung and his throat felt sore, though he’d shed no tears of his own, but the pain he felt in his heart was strong enough to make him wish he could.

“I’m sorry, General Zelgius. I didn’t mean to cry… I-I’ve just been thinking about her a lot lately. I tried so  _ hard _ back then. I wanted to be useful so that she would love me, but she never did.”

“I’m so sorry, Nino. I… know how it is to be unloved by your family. My mother never loved me, either.” He admitted, loosening his grip on her so that she could look at him. He watched as she dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse, her eyes a little red from her crying; but she looked relieved to know that she wouldn’t need to explain. She’d found someone who could understand her pain, and that; in his experience, was sometimes enough. 

Nino sniffled a little and hugged his neck. No words needed to be said. They both understood, and in that moment, Zelgius felt more at peace than he ever had. This poor, broken little child needed someone who would give her what she’d been denied, and he had just enough left in him to give it. If her mother would not give her the love all children deserve, then he would do it in her stead. He knew nearly nothing of love, but perhaps that was okay. Perhaps he could learn, and in doing so would do better than Gawain had for him. 

“Can I stay here a little longer?” She asked, tucking her face against his shoulder.

“You may stay as long as you need to. I’m not going anywhere.” She nodded and went still, clinging to him in silence, and in that moment, he felt a timid kind of hope. Maybe he could be more than the monster he’d always known. Maybe he could heal, and maybe he could help others do the same. Maybe he could put his strength and experience to work in ways that he’d never expected, and maybe… just  _ maybe _ , he could be the man he’d always wanted to be.

***

It took all that she had not to cry as she watched them. She’d watched as they read together, Nino’s voice timid and unsure, but she was doing so well. It was so clear that they’d been working on this for a while now, and it was incredible to see how much she’d improved. Zelgius looked so at ease and proud as she read, pausing only to sound out words she didn’t know. Zelgius encouraged her wordlessly with a squeeze on her arm or a soft hum of approval and seeing this side of him was eye opening. She’d always known that he was kinder and more gentle than he gave himself credit for; he’d shown her time and time again, but she’d never entertained the idea of him as a father. It brought too many desires to the surface, but now she could no longer ignore the fact that he’d be wonderful at it.

There he was; a man who had been neglected by those that should have loved him most, giving all the warmth and kindness he had within. It would have been so easy for him to dismiss her, or ignore the pain she was feeling, but he didn’t. He was nothing like he seemed to think. He seemed to find himself unworthy of love or care, he considered himself less than human; an object or an animal, and she found herself wanting to help him change the way he saw himself. She knew it wouldn’t be easy and that it could take a long time, and he might not even want it; but she wanted to try. Fighting against these feelings was exhausting and felt utterly pointless. What had started out as curiosity and a physical attraction had quickly blossomed into genuine affection, and then… into whatever this was. It was terrifying, but when she let herself be honest with herself, she knew it was what she wanted.

She watched as Nino extracted herself from his lap, wiping her eyes on her sleeve with a smile. The girl was strong, but no one could be expected to keep it all inside forever. She’d tried for years and years; but just as Nino did, she’d shared at least a part of herself with him. Maybe it was his sincerity, or maybe it was because he seemed so capable, but either way he’d succeeded where so many others had failed; and she was grateful to him for it. Maybe she would tell him everything one day: her hopes, her dreams, and her nightmares; but only when he was ready to do the same in return.

She waited as he walked Nino to the exit, their voices low and hushed in an effort not to disturb her long since disturbed rest. She’d slept very little and felt just as tired as she had before, but seeing this part of him was worth it; the time for pretending to sleep was over though. She wanted to talk to him and share her thoughts with him. He deserved to know where he stood with someone, at least.

“Is she okay?” She asked, her voice still a little raspy despite her attempts to rest it.

“She is. I hope you will forgive us for disturbing you, My Lady. It was not our intent.” 

“Don’t apologize for somethin’ like that,” she said, pushing herself up, her feet swinging over the edge of the cot. “You did what you should have, and… I was glad to see it.” He took his seat once more, his expression conflicted. 

“Why might that be?” He sounded as though he was afraid of her answer, but he waited for her to speak her mind, his green eyes never wavering from her face.

“It’s nice to see your soft side. It’s what I like most about you.” 

“You praise me too highly, My Lady. I did only what anyone would have done.” He truly seemed to believe that. He seemed to think that any kindness he showed was inadequate, and that there was no way for him to make up for the things he’d done. If that were true, then what did that say about her or any other soldier? She sighed and rose to her feet, wrapping her arms gently around his neck, pulling his head back to rest against her chest. He tensed under her briefly before relaxing, looking up at her in quiet confusion. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re wonderful. You’re kind, thoughtful, and no matter what you say, I think you’re sweet. That’s more than I can say for a  _ lot _ of people I know, Darlin’, and you could have been the worst of the bunch so easy.” She could feel the way his breath hitched, his head resting more confidently against her breast. 

“You know so little about me…”

“And I’ve got time to learn everything you have to share.” His gaze softened, careful neutrality giving way to wonder and a cautious kind of hope.

“My La-- Evelyn… thank you.” His hand came to rest over hers, pressing it solidly against the steady thumping of his heart. 

“You’re very welcome, Darlin’.” They remained like that for several minutes, wordlessly studying each other. Zelgius’ eyes roamed over her face as though trying to parse out her thoughts while her own darted between his eyes and his lips, the thought of kissing him returning in full force. 

“I pray that what you find here doesn’t disappoint you, My Lady.” She chuckled and bent down, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, her fingers combing gently through his hair. He gave up on himself so easily, but she wouldn’t. She’d already seen the good in him. She had no doubt that the things he had to teach her about himself wouldn’t change her feelings towards him, she would just need to remind him from time to time that it was him in the moment that had gained her trust and affection, not the things in his past.

“I don’t think you will. Just take your time; I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”

***

Everything smelled of her. Every time he moved, her scent billowed out of his sheets and wafted off his pillow. He could still feet the weight of her arms upon his shoulders and had to live with the knowledge that no pillow would ever be as comfortable as her chest had been. Her lips had been soft, but the kiss was far from where he found himself wanting it. 

Why couldn’t he simply be satisfied knowing that she was pleased with him? Why did he have to want her to look at him and see him as a man? Had he learned nothing in all the years since that day? He should be terrified of the very thought of feeling something more deep than knightly devotion for someone… and yet… he was calm. He was comfortable. She’d been so sincere and had held him so gently that he could only feel pleased. Perhaps these feelings were not real and came about as an effect of their contract, or maybe he was solely responsible; but either way, he found himself pondering where they could lead. He took a deep breath, burying his face into his pillow. For the time being, he would let things go where they would.


	8. A Warm Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they move to meet with Gunnthrá, Evelyn and Zelgius grow closer, but not without some interference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW warning: There's a dick in this chapter. 
> 
> Things will start heating up again next chapter.

The sound of wooden training swords filled the early morning air, the hollow thuds cutting across the camp and spooking birds from their nests as the men below them traded blows. Evelyn watched as Seth and Zelgius danced around each other, their swords held at the ready. Zelgius was focused intensely on the man in front of him, his lips twisted into a small smile. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. Seth himself remained as placid as ever, though his eagerness to continue told her that he was engaged as well.

They seemed to be well matched in skill, though it was clear that Zelgius was the stronger of the two and his greater reach gave him a distinct advantage; but watching Seth’s quick and clever solutions was entertaining, if not a little odd. She was used to seeing Seth in full command of a fight. She started when someone came to stand beside her, but settled back into position as Eirika smiled at her.

“Good morning; did you sleep well, honey?”

“I did. Do you come often to watch?” Eirika asked, her eyes darting away from her towards the men in the ring before looking back.

“Not really, but I don’t have anything else to do right now. Honestly I came out here to get some exercise of my own, but I don’t exactly want to get in the way of that,” Evelyn shrugged, her eyes once again returning to the sparring match in question. Eirika settled in beside her, her chin coming to rest in her hand.

“I can’t say I blame you. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen General Zelgius spar with anyone.”

“Well, he wasn’t in much shape to be sparring when he first got here and the other one ain’t exactly keen on mingling. I’m sure he trains since he’s sharp as ever, but I doubt he’d let anyone watch.”

Eirika hummed quietly, her eyebrows pinching together in the center. Her eyes were riveted to Seth’s back, her concern palpable. Evelyn knew what she was worried about, but saw little to worry about herself. Seth seemed to be doing fine, his arm stable and movements fluid.

“I’m sure he knows his limits, hon. Seth is a big boy, he can take care of himself,” Evelyn said.

“I… I know, but he often fails to do so. I just worry for him. That wound was grievous and the fact that it still continues to ail him concerns me.” She chewed her lip, her gaze once again shifting to Seth’s back.

“He took a nasty hit in a bad place. He’s lucky he can use that arm at all--” Evelyn sighed and shook her head, leaning more heavily on the crates in front of her, “has he let you see it?”

“No, never. He made a point of hiding it from me while he was recovering. Only Father Moulder ever saw it and Seth forbade him from speaking of it to me. I know he was only trying to protect me, but it only made me more worried,” she said. “In the early days of our journey, Seth was all I had. I had to abandon my father and country, and I had no idea if Ephraim lived. After all we’ve been through together, I can’t bear to see him hurt.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to see someone you love suffer,” Evelyn said, placing her hand over Eirika’s. “Have you tried telling him? If he knew, he might be more careful.”

“He knows well of my feelings, I know of his. If what I have already said hasn’t gotten through to him, then I doubt anything I say now will,” Eirika seemed to deflate, her shoulders drooping as she turned more fully to Evelyn. “I wish I knew how to make him see the truth of my words, but I’m at a loss.”

“Wait… are you two, you know…  _ involved _ ?” Evelyn glanced at Seth a moment before looking back at Eirika, her eyebrows raised slightly. The princess’ cheeks colored slightly as she came to understand her meaning, shaking her head.

“No… although--” her voice dropped low enough that only the two of them could hear, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to be.”

Evelyn put her arm around Eirika’s shoulders, guiding her away from their perch near the crates. This wasn’t a conversation to be had in the open, but it was one that needed to be had. If nothing else, she was experienced enough with men to know how help in this situation.

“Come on, let’s talk about this somewhere else; we can leave the boys to themselves, Zelgius ain’t gonna kill him while we’re not looking,” Evelyn said. Eirika glanced one more time at the men in the ring before nodding, allowing Evelyn to steer her through the rows of tents, past soldiers as they made their early morning rounds. “Here, no one will bug us in my tent. Now tell me what’s going on.” They took their seats, and Eirika took a deep breath, her eyes glued to the top of the small table between them.

“I don’t know how to make Seth listen to me. I’ve told him how I feel for him, but I know that pushing him will only make things worse between us. He never allows us to be alone anymore, and he never spars with me. He is more than ready to throw himself between myself and an enemy, but… that’s the last thing I want from him.” Evelyn listened, considering everything she knew about the man in question. Seth rarely talked about himself unless it was to be self depreciative, and often swept aside concern for his well being. Most of what she knew came from others and simply watching him as he went about his day.

She knew that despite his tendency to be serious to an almost comical degree and his hesitancy to get close to other people, he was a caring person and the well being of others was a priority for him. He seemed humorless at first glance, but she’d quickly come to learn that his was a wry sort of humor and easily missed. She’d known others like him, even some that served with her. He was grim and fatalistic as a means of defense, but it also served as a barrier between him and someone who loved him.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“I can’t remember a time without him. Seth has been as constant as my brother,” Eirika said.

“So you two grew up together?” Evelyn was surprised, though she guessed she shouldn’t have been. It was easy to become enamored with people that had always been around.

“More or less. Seth is five or six years my senior, I believe. Truth be told, he’s told me precious little of his childhood before he came to us. I don’t think he likes to remember it.”

“Honestly I get the feeling that he needs you to challenge him. He’s got his mind set on his excuses, but really he’s just hiding behind them. It’s on you to take that away. He’s scared, so you need to be the place he runs,” Evelyn leaned back in her chair, feeling nostalgic as she remembered all the times her little sisters asked her about boys.

“I don’t want to make him feel as though I’m forcing the issue…”

“You’re gonna have to a little. I’m not telling you to be mean, I’m just telling you to challenge him. When he makes an excuse, make him explain himself. You’ll get to the heart of the issue eventually, and when you do you can actually talk about it. It’s not gonna happen over night, and it’s not gonna be easy. When he gets overwhelmed or upset, take a step back and let him be the one who picks it back up,” She said.

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“He probably will. There’s a good chance he’s as tired of this as you are, but he doesn’t know how to break the cycle. Give him space and time to think about what you’ve said, and when he wants to talk some more, let him tell you what he needs to. If he falls back into the old habits, push him away from them. Seth isn’t going to break just because you dared to push back. You gotta to put your foot down, honey.” She watched as Eirika mulled her advice over, her expression becoming more determined by the moment. The girl was sweet and she could be naive at times, but there was a sharp edge to her that many people missed; she just needed to learn how to wield it.

“You’re right. I’ve been too… passive. I’ve been so afraid of making things worse that I did nothing, ironically making things worse in the process. Gods what if he mistakes my inaction for a loss of interest? Do you think I’ve made him feel like a passing fancy?” She worried her lip and looked at Evelyn dolefully, wringing her hands.

“Maybe, but I don’t think you’ve ruined anything. Show him that you’re serious and some of the awkwardness might go away.”

“When do I even approach him? This is so very important… it needs to be planned.”

“Nah, no time like the present,” Evelyn said, rising to her feet.

“N-now?”

“Why not? You know where he’s at. Go get him.”

“Oh… I… I don’t want to interrupt he and General Zelgius,” Eirika murmured, wringing her hands once more.

“If he doesn’t get to make excuses, neither do you. Now come on. I’ll take care of Zelgius, you just worry about Seth,” Evelyn said, pulling the girl to her feet. Eirika looked like a deer trapped in the headlights of a speeding car for a moment before she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.

“Okay… you’re right. Let’s go.” 

***

Zelgius blinked as sweat dripped down into his eyes, blocking the next swing of Seth’s sword with a quiet grunt. He’d underestimated his strength at first, but his skill was not to be denied. Seth was an efficient man. He didn’t waste effort and was quick to find weaknesses in an opponent; he could see why Prince Ephraim had touted him as the finest knight Renais had to offer, but there was something off putting about him. At times, he ate and moved like a man forcing himself to do so, as though the effort of simply living was a great undertaking.

He knew how it was to be tired of both the world and of life, but even he did not simply go about without marveling at the rising sun. What could make a man so well respected and talented feel so lifeless? As his next swing connected with Seth’s sword, he felt the wobble of his arm, almost as if it were going to give way. He frowned as a brief flicker of pain passed over his partner’s face before disappearing. Something was wrong. Zelgius stepped aside, allowing Seth’s retaliatory blow to sail past him.

“Are you well, Seth?” He asked, allowing the man to right himself.

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“You looked to be in pain and your arm went weak. Are you hurt?” Seth shook his head, rolling his right shoulder.

“It’s an old wound, you needn’t worry yourself. It simply becomes stiff when the temperature changes.” Zelgius quirked an eyebrow, wiping sweat away from his forehead.

“Have you spoken to a healer? Surely they have something that may help. It would be  _ unfortunate _ if such a thing lead to a fresh injury,” He said. Seth chuckled dryly, shrugging his shoulders.

“You certainly cut to the heart of things. Very well, I take your point.” Zelgius nodded, looking beyond Seth as Princess Eirika and Lady Evelyn returned. He’d been disappointed when they’d left. He wasn’t used to having an audience while he trained, but knowing she was watching made him feel motivated.

“Seth?” Princess Eirika’s voice was firm, her tone indicating that she was quite serious. Zelgius watched the emotions that flickered over Seth’s face as he turned to meet his lady’s serious gaze.

“Yes, My Lady?” His tone was professional, but the neutrality was carefully constructed. It was incredibly awkward to be witness to such a loaded exchange.

“I need to have a word with you, please,” She said. Seth hesitated a moment before following after her, shoulders squared and head held high, but there was an obvious hesitation in the way he walked. Whatever they were about to talk about, Zelgius found himself grateful he was not going to be subjected to it.

“I would love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.” Evelyn quipped, coming to stand beside him.

“I had wondered where the two of you had gotten off to,” Zelgius changed the subject, hoping to redirect her attention.

“Oh, just a little girl talk. Eirika needed advice and I gave it to her.” Evelyn let her eyes sweep over his face and down his neck, enjoying the way his chest rose and fell quickly with his breathing. Seth had managed to put him through his paces, it seemed.

“I see…” They stood there awkwardly, the memory of their last moments alone hanging heavily between them. He wanted to close the distance, to once again feel her arms around his neck, but to do so would be inappropriate. He needed to get these feelings under control before they got him hurt.

“You feeling up for a little more exercise, Darlin’?” She asked. Zelgius was surprised, but intrigued as she shrugged out of her robe, baring her freckled arms to the chilly autumn air. His eyes locked onto a dark line that peeked out from under her left sleeve and felt his heart stutter.

“Of course… I’d be pleased to train with you, if you wish.” In spite of himself, his eyes were drawn to her strong shoulders and arms and it struck him then that he’d never seen them exposed. She looked every bit like a soldier, more accustomed to hard labor than gowns and dancing. He’d known many men among Begnion and Daein’s nobility that would scoff at her physique, as though she were less feminine for her strength, but it was just one more thing that he liked; and if he were correct, they were more alike than he first thought. He waited while she stretched, her back popping loudly as she bent at the waist.

“Okay… one caveat before we start: my right knee ain’t what it used to be; I can kneel, but it hurts if I'm forced to do it. Don’t force me to my knees and I won’t aim for the crotch. Deal?”

“I would never dream of forcing you to your knees, My Lady. Didn’t you say I was a gentleman less than a week ago?” He felt his heart swell as she smiled up at him, her gaze fond.

“That I did. Guess I don’t need to worry, huh?” She stepped back, slipping into a ready position as her warm expression became more calculating. “Let me warm up a little before we start throwing each other around. Ready?” Zelgius nodded, taking a moment to analyze her form. She led with her right hand and foot, and while his first instinct was to assume she would concentrate most of her power there, he distinctly remembered seeing her handle her weapon with her left.

He blocked the first few jabs from her right hand with his palm, watching the way she moved. She was quick, her movements sharp and aggressive; so much so that he was nearly blindsided by the hard punch from the left, confirming his suspicions. She darted under his guard, jabbing at his stomach before falling back once more. None of her strikes were particularly painful, but he was well aware that she could easily change that, and in a way he found that thrilling. It was easy to underestimate her; she hid her hard edges under a soft drawl and sweet smile, but she was anything but helpless.

“You’ve been picking me apart since we started, learn anything interesting?” She teased, side stepping as he closed in on her once more.

“I never realized you were left handed.”

“Most people don’t. I write with my right hand,” She said, feinting to his left before darting back again when he adjusted his stance accordingly.

“That’s an odd thing to do,” Zelgius grunted, wincing as Evelyn twisted his right arm uncomfortably to the side, forcing him to disengage.

“Catholic schools are weird, what can I say? The Sisters used to whack my hand when I wrote “wrong,” so I just learned to use my right hand and spare myself the trouble.”

“That’s…” He struggled for a delicate way to express his thoughts on the matter, but words failed him.

“Stupid?” She offered, returning to her original combination of jabs.

“Your words, not mine.” They fell silent once more, but had grown comfortable enough in their dance to carry on without talk. He cherished their simple conversations. Many would consider them pointless perhaps, but for him the feeling of closeness they brought him was anything but.

His arms closed around her waist, trapping her against his chest before she could slip away. They stood like that, breathing hard and leaning into one another as his fatigue began to catch up with him. Evelyn smiled, the expression distinctly mischievous as he felt her fingers brush over his sides. In his tired state, he wasn’t quick enough to pull away before her finger tips dug in, the sensation causing him to yelp and pull away. Her laugh was clear and earnest, more unburdened than he’d ever heard it; and it made him crave more.

“I’m sorry! I just… I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t think you’d actually be ticklish.” She continued to snicker as she resumed her fighting posture, but the serious nature of their bout was gone.

“Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, I suppose I have no choice but to retaliate, My Lady.” He took a step towards her, his intentions clear.

“You better fuckin’ not.” Evelyn fell back, her arms drawn in close to her sides.

“Oh? Is that how it is? That’s hardly fair.” He ignored her in favor of continuing his advance, a playful grin of his own spreading over his face as he lunged towards her. She ducked out of the way, giggling as her hand shot towards his ribs. He'd never done something like this. Sparring was always so serious, but here with her, all he wanted to do was make her smile.

Upon his second attempt, he managed to grab her, his hands finding purchase on her sides. She squealed, the sound of her laughter ringing throughout the camp. He knew people no doubt heard, but he didn’t care. Her laughter was all that mattered in that moment.

In a desperate bid to escape him, Evelyn wriggled free and ducked down, gripping his arm in both hands, pulling it down towards the ground. With a few more pushes and tugs to disturb his balance, she looped her arms around his knee and twisted their bodies. As he fell, he grabbed her shirt, bringing her down with him. She yelped, her hands cradling the back of his head as they collapsed into a tangle of limbs on the ground. At first, all was silent; they simply lay there breathing heavily; but soon, Evelyn pushed herself up into a sitting position, giggling to herself at the ridiculousness of the current state of affairs, swiping a loose strand of hair away from her face.

He’d never felt so at ease. In that moment, he forgot the war, their comrades, and his own reasons for denying himself the things he wanted most. She was all there was, joyous and beautiful. Being with her was easy and natural, and he found he never wanted to be anywhere else. He would follow her anywhere, as long as she would have him. Evelyn wiped her brow, smiling at him as he pushed himself up, allowing her to remain settled in his lap.

“This isn’t exactly what I expected, but I had fun,” she said. He hummed in response, his eyes trailing over her face and down to her lips. Perhaps he should be concerned by their current state, but the way her hands rested against his chest kept him locked in the moment. He was vaguely aware of their closeness, the feeling of her breath sweeping over his lips and chin beckoning him closer. “You have really beautiful eyes.” Her whispered complement set his heart to pounding. What did he say? ‘Thank you’ seemed too simple, and would hardly convey his true feelings on the matter.

“So do you.” Was that all he could say? Any beauty he possessed paled in comparison to hers. Her eyelids fluttered, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt, her freckled cheeks blushing softly as the distance between them diminished. “Evelyn, I--”

“Summoner. You are needed.” They jerked apart as another voice broke their shared stupor. Reality came rushing back, leaving him feeling cold and foolish. He looked at his doppleganger, a mixture of shame and ire building within him. He couldn’t see his face, but he knew that he was mocking him.

“O-oh, uh… okay. Help me up, honey.” Zelgius watched as he hauled her to her feet, draping her robe over her shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“They merely sent me to retrieve you. I am not privy to their desires,” he said, glancing at Zelgius as he stood up. “You should get cleaned up. I believe we will be moving on very soon.” His words were true enough, but there was an odd edge to his voice; enough so Evelyn found herself wanting to jab him in the ribs.

“Okay, come on then. I’ll catch up with you later, Darlin’,” she said, strolling away with the Black Knight at her side. Zelgius’ heart fell as he watched her go, feeling embarrassed and ashamed at his behavior. He should have known better than to allow her so close, and yet he couldn’t help himself. He wanted her to stay with him, despite how selfish that desire was. His breath caught in his throat as she glanced over her shoulder, her expression disappointed, her gaze sweeping over his face. She smiled softly at him, biting down on her bottom lip before turning away. He smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck, turning away towards his tent.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Evelyn that happy.” Zelgius jolted and looked down, finding Robin peering up at him with a soft smile. They hadn’t had as much time to speak since joining the main force, but his company was no less pleasant for it.

“Er… how long have you been here?” Zelgius felt his ears grow hot, but forced himself to remain calm. If he’d been there the whole time, there was little he could do about it.

“Not very. I try not to distract people while they’re training and you two were having so much fun that it felt wrong to interrupt.” It seemed that Robin had chosen not to mention how close they’d been at the end.

“I didn’t do anything special,” Zelgius said, thinking back to the way it made him feel to see her smile. He missed her already.

“Sometimes we don’t have to do anything special to make someone happy. I think just being yourself was enough.” How could that be? Surely there was more to it; he wasn’t sure he knew how to simply be himself anymore. Who was he? He thought he’d known, but that image had become muddled. “You looked happy too,” Robin said.

“Did I?” Was that okay? Was it okay for him to be happy? He wasn’t sure, but he hoped that it was. He was tired of being alone and bitter.

“You did. I think you should chase that happiness.” Zelgius’ steps faltered as he looked down at Robin.

“I… I should go get washed up. I’m hardly in any state to sit at a table and eat among the others,” his excuse didn’t seem to faze Robin, who simply smiled warmly and nodded. Zelgius hurried away, confusion tumbling through him. What he wanted and what he thought he deserved warred within him, leaving him feeling anxious and vulnerable. He needed to clear his head and think all this through. If he didn’t, he knew that he would remain frozen where he was, neither able to embrace his feelings nor reject them.

***

Her eyes remained locked on the back of his head as he rode ahead of her, chatting quietly with Nino. The girl clung to his waist, settled safely behind him on his horse as she chattered about the book they’d been working on together. She knew she shouldn’t stare so much, but she couldn’t get what had happened between them out of her head. He’d been so close, so warm, and god he’d seemed intent on kissing her. She glanced down to her left, the man responsible for interrupting them marching silently alongside her.

He’d been silent as he’d lead her to the war tent, refusing to look at her as she tried to strike up a conversation with him. He’d been so cold towards her since the morning they’d returned from their meeting. He’d lingered close by like always, but there was a wall between them; like there used to be. She didn’t want to believe that he was angry with her for doing what she’d done, but there was little other explanation. His crankiness had only increased when Zelgius had joined them. She wanted to say something to him, anything to get him to talk to her, but she didn’t dare when there were so many that could overhear them. What she needed to say wasn’t for the others to hear.

“Why are you staring at me, Summoner?” His tone was sullen, bored, and cold.

“I wanted to see if I could annoy you into reacting. Did it work?” She waited for his response, casting a quick glance around. She was worried about him.

“Hmph.” Was that it? Was that all she’d get out of him? Irritation bubbled away within her, his obstinate silence speaking louder than any words could. This couldn’t go on. They worked together, he followed her orders; if he wouldn’t communicate with her, then how could she expect to get him to obey orders? She wouldn’t invoke the contract between them. It was wrong to strip free will away from another person.

“We need to talk later.” Her voice was kept low, only loud enough that he could hear. He didn’t reply, but she could tell her words had reached him by the way his shoulders tensed. She didn’t like putting him on the spot, but… if he didn’t get to make excuses, neither did she. She’d given him plenty of time to stew and be angry, to come up with his excuses and defense. She would have to tear it down for him so they could get back to normal. “I mean it. We’ll talk once we stop for the night.” His nod was all she got for confirmation, but it put her at ease. If nothing else, she could always rely on him to behave professionally.

Gunnthrá had contacted her once again the night before, this time with better news. She was nearby, hiding in a small town two day’s hard march northwest; but they’d need to hurry. Múspell had forces all over the area and they were looking for her. They’d need to get an early start in the morning and with luck, they’d make it to the town of Forsvollr before she moved on or was captured. They were prepared to fight the bulk of the forces in this area, though she knew it wouldn’t be nearly as easy as it had been in the past. Those forces were speed bumps, only meant to inconvenience them. The true test of their endurance would come very, very soon.

She took a shaky breath as her head grew light and her vision blurred. This had been happening a lot recently; the stress was definitely starting to get to her. She’d been increasingly restless, her head and neck aching as she tried to sleep at night and fits of vertigo during the day keeping her on edge. She hadn’t wanted to worry Zelgius that day, but she’d needed to lay down to keep herself from collapsing just as much as she’d needed a nap; perhaps more. And then there were the chills. Her hands were cold and her fingers felt numb. Maybe she was coming down with something? She’d bring it up to one of the healers later, when she could be sure it wouldn’t make anyone too concerned.

“Are you well, Summoner?” His tone was more engaged, concerned, even. Was it showing?

“I’m fine. Why?” She knew what expression he was making under that helmet. He was far from stupid, so if he’d picked up on how she was feeling, then there was little reason to hide it from him other than saving face.

“You’re breathing heavily.” Had she been? She hadn’t noticed; but then again, he wouldn’t lie to her about something like that. “Perhaps you should rest in one of the wagons.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t convinced, but he shrugged and turned back to the front. He was learning not to argue with her, at least. There was just too much for her to do, she didn’t have time to rest and she couldn’t let everyone else see her slacking. She just needed to breathe and focus on making it through another day. Just like old times.

***

The camp was calm, full of people laughing and going about their evening duties. Their bellies were full and spirits were high in spite of what they would face very soon. Evelyn smiled as she made her way towards the center of camp, where most everyone sat gathered around the largest of the fires. Zelgius sat on one of the makeshift benches, a small audience standing or sitting around him as he spoke. He’d integrated well into their army, despite a few reasonable exceptions.

Ike and the other Greil mercenaries; and by extension, Elincia as well, avoided him; but she didn’t blame them. They had been wronged by him, and they had no obligation to forgive him. Regardless of his reasons, he’d still taken the life of Ike’s father, a man they had loved or at least, respected. As long as they remained cooperative and didn’t cause her any trouble, their affairs were theirs. She wouldn’t interfere in their business. Zelgius was a big boy, she didn’t need to shield him from the consequences of his actions.

“Evelyn!” She smiled as she saw Nino waving her over, her blue eyes shining with glee. The girl had been much more cheerful lately, and the way she stuck close to Zelgius was cute. It was almost enough to make her rethink her stance on children.

“Well hey there, honey. What’re y’all up to over here?” She asked, casting a glance at the gaggle of people surrounding the general. Zelgius couldn’t maintain eye contact with her, but the shy smile tugging at his lips whenever their eyes met told her that he was simply feeling awkward in the aftermath of what had happened. She would let that pot simmer for a while. They’d talk about it when he was ready.

“General Zelgius was telling us some stories from his time in Begnion. Why don’t you join us?” Nino chirped, tugging gently at the sleeve of her robe. Robin was seated next to Zelgius on one side, with Chrom and Lissa nearby; on his other side sat Deirdre, Priscilla and Azura. On a separate bench, Sanaki and Tana sipped tea. She was surprised to see Sanaki there, she’d assumed that she’d be as unwilling to be near him as the others; but maybe her feelings on the matter were more complicated. Deirdre scooted down, patting the bench between she and Zelgius. Evelyn eased herself down beside them, pleased with her seat. She could certainly have chosen worse people to sit between.

“Well I don’t see why not. I’ve got nothing going on right this second.” Her arm brushed his as she settled in, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed to do the opposite.

“Well, let me think… there are simply too many stories to tell about Prime Minister Sephiran; many of which he’d not appreciate me sharing.” It seemed that she’d happened upon them at a good time.

“Tell us a funny one, General. I wish to remember him in a happy way.” Sanaki’s voice was small, but easily heard. Usually she was so commanding, but she sounded every bit like the little girl she was at that moment. Zelgius seemed to agree, his expression shadowed briefly by something that looked every bit like regret.

“Very well, Empress. A funny story it is. Let me see… ah. It was… maybe ten or fifteen years ago, I think; he’d come to call upon me at home for something, I forget what. He was to rest there for the night and return to Sienne proper the next morning; but of course that meant he would be dining with me that evening. Now… Lord Sephiran was… delicate, shall we say. He couldn’t handle anything spicy, black pepper could overwhelm him. I didn’t know him well, we’d only been working together for a few months at that time, so I wasn't aware of this yet. He cuts a big piece of sausage, shoves the whole thing in his mouth, and moments upon swallowing, his face goes red, his eyes begin to water. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cycle through that many emotions that quickly. By the time I truly understood what was wrong, he was crying and waving his hands around and the whole scenario was so bizarre I could only laugh.” Zelgius took a moment to remember the events of the night, a wistful smile quirking his lips up at the corner.

“My laughing only served to upset him, of course so he begins swearing at me, but he’s hiccupping so it comes out more pitiful than he’d meant it to, which then prompts more laughter from me. To hear such profanity from him was strange and only made things worse for him. My steward rushed to his aid, but by that time the poor man was miserable. He pouted for the rest of the night. After that, my staff knew to ensure that would never happen again, but it certainly embarrassed him enough that simply bringing it up in private was enough to send him into an hour long tangent about my manners.” Zelgius chuckled quietly to himself, a nostalgic look passing over his handsome face as those around him giggled. Sanaki looked much the same as Zelgius himself, somewhere between amused and bereft. His gaze slid from the fire to Evelyn’s face, meeting her eyes quietly.

It was dim enough that no one would notice if she slipped her hand into his, and so she did. He flinched as she placed her hand over his, her thumb trailing over his knuckles. He smiled softly as she gave it a squeeze. Neither of them seemed to be in much of a hurry to name whatever this was between them, but she liked it. She liked seeing him smile at her and the calm that came over him when she touched him.

“What about you, Evelyn? Surely you have stories to share,” Chrom said, crossing his legs at the ankles. She hesitated, unsure exactly what they would want to hear. She had plenty of funny stories, but most of them would be hard to tell and explaining them would kill the humor.

“I do… but I don’t know how interesting they are.”

“Aww, c’mon Evelyn. You hardly talk about anything that happened back home. Please?” Lissa pleaded. She paused to consider it before looking at Zelgius. It was his turn to squeeze her hand, his gaze calm and reassuring.

“Well okay,” she said, gathering her thoughts. “Okay, so I have two younger sisters. I'd do anything for them. But they’re the worst--” Chrom snorted from the other side of the bench. “See he gets it. Anyhow. The older of the two, Wylie, is not as bad, she's calmed down a lot; but the youngest is a little hell cat. Avery used to do shit to make me angry, because she wanted to see how far she could push me. So she finally went too far when she decided to stitch all my bras and panties together so when I pulled one out of the drawer, they just kept coming. I was in a hurry, and women’s underwear is expensive. So, naturally my next move is to ruin her life. I was tired of her nonsense and ready to exact my vengeance. So I waited until she was having her friends over; they were in her room, completely oblivious to what I was up to.” She took a breath, snickering to herself at the memory.

“I used to work at a haunted house attraction when I was a teenager. Every fall we’d put on costumes and scare people for a fee; and because I was flexible and dramatic as hell, I was really good at it. This means I had a lot of my makeup and costumes laying around. So, while they’re having a good time, I do myself up nice, making sure I’m equal parts recognizable and horrifying and I wait for her to come out into the hall to go to the bathroom, where I’m hiding. So I’m like this--” she slipped from the bench and bent herself into the bridge position, ignoring the odd angle she was now viewing Zelgius and where her eyes wanted to go, “and back then, I could actually kind of… run in this position.” She righted herself and rejoined them on the bench, shaking her head as the blood rushed away from it. “So she comes in the bathroom, sees this and I charge her. She screams, and completely loses control of her bladder. Her friends all run out into the hall just in time to see her piss herself, and I don’t mean a little bit. I mean the floodgates were open.”

“Oh gods, Evelyn.” Robin chortled, shaking his head.

“She still hasn’t forgiven me for that, but I don’t care. She tested me.”

“Wouldn’t most siblings just, I don’t know, fight it out?” Lissa asked.

“Maybe, but fights leave evidence. I don’t want to explain why Avery has a black eye, I’d rather just humiliate her,” Evelyn shrugged, once again finding Zelgius’ hand in the darkness. Nino giggled and shifted to lean back against her legs, peering up to look between she and Zelgius. There was an understanding in the girl’s gaze, but she said nothing. Evelyn wasn’t ashamed, but she appreciated her discretion; it was far too soon for anyone to get wind of their flirting.

“Summoner.”

“Oh hey there, honey. What do you need?” She asked. The Black Knight inclined his head, the light of the fire nearly swallowed by the darkened steel of his armor. The cheerful mood died, replaced by awkwardness.

“You needed to speak with me, did you not?” She had said that, and while she hadn’t forgotten, she dreaded talking with him about their issues. Beside her, Zelgius shifted, nudging her gently.

“I did. Sorry everyone, I need to duck out for a bit.” She rose to her feet, once again disappointed that she was leaving the man whose company she wanted.

As they put distance between themselves and the fire, he slowed his pace and came to walk beside her, his posture becoming almost leisurely as they strolled along. He was quiet, but in a far less unpleasant way than it had been recently.

“Evelyn?”

“Hm?” He’d not said her name in quite a while, only referring to her by her title. Had he somehow not noticed that he was being an unpleasant grouch?

“Would it be presumptuous to ask if the offer for a haircut still stood?” His tone was meek; or at least, as meek as he could be.

“Nah. If you need it, I’ll do it. Depending on how well you behave, I might even let you keep your ears.” She smiled as he chuffed, his humor returning for the first time in weeks. “Go get your hair wet and I’ll see if I can’t find a pair of shears. I’ll meet you in your tent in a few minutes.” 

***

“I brought your shirt back, hon.” He gazed down at her as she offered the garment to him, chewing her lip nervously. He hated himself for making her feel anything other than safe and comfortable in his presence. She’d been so close before that witch had come between them. She’d shared herself with him, she’d held him close and slept at his side; she’d trusted him to protect her. Now she couldn’t even stand to look at him. These feelings were like a disease, slowly rotting away all that he knew to be right, but he didn’t know how to stop them. How did he kill something that  _ she _ had planted within him?

“Thank you. I’d begun to wonder if you’d decided to keep it.” He said, reaching out to take it, relishing the way their fingers brushed as he did. He missed her. He missed her laugh, he missed how she would prod and tease him, he even missed the feeling of longing he felt as she lay pressed against him. All he had now was the memory of it. It wasn’t enough. He’d become pathetic in his time here, but it was the truth.

“I considered it. It’s comfy.” She’d been the very image of perfect in his shirt. It brought with it fantasies that he refused to even acknowledge for fear that they would consume his every waking moment. If he simply gave into these feelings, would it be possible for them to be together? Would she want him?

“Perhaps you should request larger shirts for sleeping in.”

“Or I could just keep stealing yours. I think I like that idea better.” He did too. In a way, it marked her as his, and the very thought that she enjoyed wearing his shirt made his head spin. Should she not be repulsed by the idea?

“And why might you do that?” She grinned up at him, the expression open and playful. He’d missed that more than anything.

“Because it annoys you.” He chuffed quietly, shaking his head.

“You’re absurd. Have at them, then. If you wish to annoy me, then you’re free to try.” He liked a challenge as much as anyone. Evelyn laughed, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

“Careful sugar, I’m a big sister; annoying people is something I’m  _ really _ good at; and you’re  _ so _ cute when you’re irritated. Your cheeks get all red and you pout. Absolutely precious.” He felt his ears warm as she spoke. Cute? Was that how she saw him, or was she simply taunting him? He hoped that she found him attractive in some capacity, even if it were only skin deep. He could hardly blame her for being repulsed by what lay beneath the facade.

“I do  **not** pout.” He groused, watching as Evelyn pushed past him.

“Sure you don’t.” She teased, patting his arm. “Now then, let’s get started. Go ahead and sit down. I managed to borrow these shears from the Quartermaster. They ain’t what I’m used to, and I won’t be able to give you the best cut I’m capable of without a pair of clippers, but they’ll do.” He did as he was told, closing his eyes as she began to comb through his hair. “You’ve got a razor handy, right?”

“I do, though I don’t particularly need a shave this late in the evening,” he said.

“I wasn’t gonna give you one. Well, not your face anyway. I’ll need it to tidy up this mess back here.” She tugged gently at the hair at the back of his head to illustrate her point.

“It’s in the front pocket of my pack.” He watched as she fished the tool out of his pack, his eyes lingering on her legs as he did so. If he hadn’t pulled away from her, perhaps he would be where that weak fool stood. Perhaps even closer.

“There it is. Okay, let’s hope I don’t hurt you too bad. I’ve never used a straight razor before.” She adjusted his head and made her first snip with the shears, her movements assured.

“Where did you pick up this skill?” He asked, hoping to fill the silence with small talk long enough that she would no longer have sharp objects near him when the real talk came.

“I used to cut my siblings’ hair. It’s not hard to learn, it just takes practice. I got a lot better at it while I was in the army. Someone had to keep those idiots from looking like a bunch of drifters because they weren’t gonna do it themselves,” she said. “Now then. Mind telling me what’s been going on in that pretty head of yours?” Damn it. She had no intention of letting him escape her, it seemed. He couldn’t tell her the truth. Surely she knew as well as he did that she deserved far more than what he could offer.

“I… suppose I simply felt awkward and unsure. I needed time to myself.” That was as close to honesty as he dared go. His uncertainty was real, but it walked hand in hand with jealousy.

“Is that so? You doing okay now? You got it figured out?”

“I do. Thank you… and… I’m sorry. I know I should have said something to you.” His apology was honest. He felt terrible for leaving her in the dark for so long. He’d longed for her company the entire time, but he was stubborn. He would have continued to be stubborn if she hadn’t approached him.

“It’s okay, hon. I don’t hold it against you. I’m glad you’re okay, I was getting worried about you.” She slowed down the pace of her work, seemingly wanting to linger with him. He would be happy to allow her to stay as long as she wished. “You have such pretty hair. It’s such a nice color.”

“Thank you.” He wasn’t certain he’d ever been complimented in such a way before. Most comments on his appearance were made about his body, particularly the way his rear looked in his pants; and they were almost always made when the speaker thought he couldn’t hear. It was a nice change of pace.

“Okay, stay still; I’m gonna clean up your neck so I need you to tip your head down. Thanks.” He did as she asked and remained perfectly still as she worked, the feeling of the blade against his skin oddly stimulating in a way he wasn’t used to. It was almost exciting to have something so sharp in the hand of someone else while they were so close to his throat. “Okay, sit up straight, let me have a look.” She stepped around to the front, bending at the waist, checking the evenness of her work. His eyes swept down the column of her neck, landing upon her freckled breasts as her shirt’s neckline fell forward. Guilt and shame filled him immediately, but did nothing to quell his desire to pull her into his lap.

“Am I going to need to simply shave my head?” He asked, dragging his eyes back to her face. She snorted, shaking her head as she stood upright.

“Nope, it looks good. I could have done better if I had tools from my world, but all in all, you look better. It was starting to look a little shaggy,” she said.

“Well, then I suppose I should be glad you were so kind.” His tone was teasing, but he was grateful to her. His hair was beginning to fall into his eyes and could make wearing his helm uncomfortable as the hair could poke him in the eyes if he weren’t careful.

“If you know what’s good for you, you will be.” She ruffled his hair and wiped the shorn bits away from his neck and shirt with the small brush he’d usually use to lather his face.

“You should go to bed early tonight. You weren’t looking well this afternoon.”

“Now don’t try to tell me what to do, you know how that ends up,” she stretched her arms overhead, sighing as she did so.

“Evelyn. Truly, I’m concerned for you.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you Daddy; want me to get you a beer while I’m minding you?” Her tone was playful, though he got the sense that such a thing was well worn into her memories. He chuckled and rose to his feet, striding towards his pack to fish out a fresh shirt.

“Consider this one a free gift. From here on, you’ll have to steal them if you want them,” he leaned down, his lips a hair’s breadth from her ear, “now go to bed.” He heard her breath hitch, but pulled away before he could truly let himself enjoy it. He was being foolish again.

“Right… okay, um… I’m gonna go to bed, I reckon. Uh… goodnight, sugar.” Her cheeks were flushed as she pulled away, holding his shirt tightly to her chest as she made her way to the exit.

“Goodnight, Evelyn. I shall see you in the morning.” She nodded in response, giving him one more smile and a lingering glance before ducking out of his tent, leaving him lonely once more.

He glanced down at the shirt she’d brought with her, wondering why she’d bothered returning it. He’d had no intention of taking it back from her, he wouldn’t have minded if she’d simply kept the thing. But… perhaps her quest to irritate him could be fun for them both. She would satisfy her need to tease someone, and he would have the satisfaction of knowing that it was  _ his _ shirt that she was wearing. He chuffed as he uncrumpled it, her scent billowing towards him as he did so. The little she devil didn’t even wash it since wearing it last.  

He brought the shirt to his nose, breathing in the scent of apple blossoms and something so uniquely her that it left him breathless. He groaned and put the garment aside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he forced himself to breathe slowly. Whether she meant to or not, she was torture. His body felt too heavy, his head too light. He needed to find a way to deal with these feelings before they became too much. She was tearing apart his resolve bit by bit, and eventually he would have no more strength left. How was it that someone so small held so much power over him? He was unused to such an intense physical reaction, but he couldn’t ignore the tightness of his trousers or the way he was beginning to sweat.

His hands shook as he shucked his shirt over his head, the sudden rush of desperation making it hard to concentrate on anything save her. Why was this happening to him now? He’d noticed how beautiful he found her months ago, when he first agreed to lend her his aid; but it hadn’t seemed important. He’d not cared that she was lovely. He’d not cared that she was kind. His master was waiting for him to return, and he had not forgotten what his purpose was; but now he was conflicted. Who had his loyalty now? To whom did he belong? Did it matter? He put aside his boots, intending to clean them later, after this feeling had passed and he could concentrate again. He took the shirt and flopped down onto his bedding, allowing his eyes to slide shut as his head hit the pillow.

If he just lay down for a while, the feeling would pass. He was just tired. He huffed at the insistent ache in his groin, shifting in discomfort as his manhood strained against the confines of his pants. Why was everything being so difficult? All he wanted was to return to normal. He didn’t want to think about her. He didn’t want to want her. He’d tried so hard to avoid this. He undid his trousers with a relieved groan, grateful that at least some of the irritation was gone, but he was becoming aware that there was only one way out of this. He could never have her, but he could have these moments of fantasy.  He sighed, swallowed what was left of his pride, and allowed his hand to trail downward as he pressed his nose into the collar of the shirt.

How would it feel to be touched so intimately by her? Her fingers were thin and dainty, but there was strength there; and despite her kindness, she had the capacity to be cold. He had no doubt that she would take him slowly. He shuddered at the thought of it, his own hand slowing to an almost excruciating pace. Would her kiss be as sweet as he imagined? Her body as yielding? Was she a quiet lover, or would she shamelessly cry out his name? Her soft, lilting voice would sound so sweet as she writhed beneath him, her arms and legs clinging to him as though he were all that kept her anchored to reality.

He choked back a moan as he sped his pace, desperation pushing him onward. He was not foolish enough to assume that she could love him. He was not fit for such things. She could use him. He would be an interesting toy for a time, perhaps. He was fine with that. He would let her have anything she wanted from him, regardless of its cost, even if it meant that she would eventually grow bored of him and cast him aside. He would give himself to her gladly, regardless of what happened later. It was enough to know that he pleased her.

He shuddered again, his breathing harsh and fast in the heat of the moment, his hips bucking greedily as his mind conjured the image of her flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips as she smiled down at him in that teasing way she had. Not yet. He wanted this moment to last. It was all he would ever have, he needed to have it as long as possible.

How wonderful would it be to be loved by her? To fall asleep every night by her side and wake every morning with her hair in his face? To hear his name spoken with affection and care, or breathed blissfully as his mouth was occupied with her pleasure? Would she give him the honor of being more than her servant? Could she accept him, in spite of all that he had done? Could she love him and allow him to stand by her for the rest of their days; not just as a knight, but as her lover?

He whimpered and arched as his thumb circled slowly around the tip, his mind tearing away from his musings as he considered the way her tongue would feel against his flesh. He would never ask her do such things, but by the goddess if he would not thank her for every moment she spent on him. She had such a lovely mouth. He longed to feel her lips pressing against his throat, his shoulders, and perhaps… perhaps she would still love him, despite the very thing that made him unworthy. Could she see past it and see only him? Very few in Tellius could boast the same, but… she was not of Tellius. Perhaps  _ she _ was what he needed.

He was startled by the moan that tore itself from his throat, the desperate sound filling the space around him. He couldn’t take it any longer. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, filling his already hazy vision as his ragged breathing hitched. If she were there, he would beg her to give him relief, the wanton sound of his voice spurring her onward. All he wanted was her. He came with a strangled sob of her name, his fantasy world crumbling around him as unfamiliar sensations took over.

The bliss never lasted long. Every ounce of hopefulness drained away as he returned to reality, feeling disgusting for reasons besides the sweat cooling on his skin. This was foolish of him. All it did was make him want her more, but what did something like him have to offer? His body? She could find that anywhere. He was not special. There was nothing that he could give her that another couldn’t. He was good for one thing only: killing. If she needed something to die, he would be the one to do it. If she needed someone to lie at her side and love her, she would find another.

His heart ached at the thought of another by her side, and yet he knew it was how it was meant to be. He was incapable of loving her. Perhaps if they’d met earlier in his life, before… no. His very nature had been warped by things outside of his control. He was broken long before he had the chance to be anything else. This was all that he knew, and all he would ever know. He would carve these feelings out himself if necessary. It was the best he could do for them both, for loving her was too painful and would only bring her misfortune in the end. Closing his heart to her would be the only way he could show her his love, and he would do it for her. 

 


	9. Roaring Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order of Heroes faces their most difficult battle yet and the reality of war comes crashing down on them all, but even amidst such misery, Evelyn and Zelgius find comfort in one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really, really long chapter. Like holy shit, so long. 
> 
> A short note: paraffin oil is kerosene and was used in oil burning street lamps and stuff like that. It comes up, so I figured I might as well tell you here. I promise Gunnthrá will play a bigger role in the next chapters, this just got so long that I ended up having to cut things and condense scenes. Happy reading!
> 
> **Edit**  
> I realized there was a continuity error and fixed it. Sorry about that, and if no one noticed, I'm glad.

The warmth of the mug in his hands did more to soothe his frazzled nerves than he’d expected. He’d dreamt of her again. It had been so real that he felt he could reach out and touch her, but this dream was anything but happy. She’d looked so small and peaceful, and the scent of her mingled with wet leaves and earth, much how it would on any other day; but to see her so still was jarring. He hadn’t protected her. He failed in his duty and it had cost him everything. He would never hear her laugh again.

Zelgius took a deep breath and held it, counting down from ten before letting it out slowly. She was fine. Everyone was fine. He hadn’t failed anyone; not yet, at least. Perhaps this was his own mind’s way of reminding him of his purpose, or maybe she’d simply become so dear to him that he could no longer afford to lose her; but either way, he would ensure he was diligent. As long as he could still swing a sword, he would ensure that no one, friend or foe, did her harm.

“General Zelgius?” He glanced over his shoulder as Prince Chrom strode into the tent, taking a seat at the table across from him.

“Good evening, Milord. I take it your watch was a peaceful one?” Zelgius sipped his tea, hoping the boy wouldn’t see just how his hand shook.

“It was. Yours ended a while ago, though. Why are you still up? You should be resting, you know?” Chrom’s admonishment was gentle, full of concern. Zelgius chuckled, placing his mug upon the table, looking down at the grain of the wood instead of at him. Chrom was a good man, but a little oblivious at times; and seeing the brand upon his arm so clearly made him uncomfortable. Chrom’s marked him as divine, chosen for a great purpose. His marked him as subhuman and unworthy of even basic kindness; and yet, because he could hide it, he got it anyway. It felt like he was lying to them all, and lies were punished eventually.

“I woke a little while ago and needed some time to clear my head.”

“Bad dream?” It felt more like a statement than a question. He could tell from his tone that Chrom already knew what had woken him.

“Something of the sort, I suppose. I made enough tea to share, if you’re of a mind,” Zelgius said. Chrom hummed, but remained where he was.

“May I ask you something?”

“Certainly, Milord.” Zelgius looked up, finding it difficult to look him directly in the eyes, forcing himself to focus on his nose instead. Just because he was too uncomfortable to maintain eye contact didn’t mean that he couldn’t fake it.

“When he first arrived, Ike said something odd to me. He expressed condolences when he saw my brand, but he wouldn’t really explain it further than saying that in your world, people branded like this are treated poorly. I suppose I just… would like to know why.” Zelgius dropped all pretense of looking him in the eyes and once again studied the table, sipping his tea silently as he gathered his thoughts. Chrom’s curiosity was well founded, he supposed. In his world, to be branded was an honor, so to know he would be treated like trash elsewhere was probably disheartening; just as it was upsetting for him to know that his wouldn’t be such a badge of shame elsewhere.

“To be entirely honest, Milord, I wish I had a satisfactory answer. It is said that the goddess sees it as a sin for a beorc and laguz to bear children, but I cannot speak for her. I do know that the branded are persecuted for the crime of living, but other than that… I don’t have an explanation. The laguz loses their ability to transform, so I suppose to them, the child seems a thief; one who has stolen away an integral piece of themselves. Beorc have long held bigotry and prejudice over good sense, so I imagine to them the child seems dirty and unnatural.” He could not understand why he’d been treated the way he was. He didn’t understand why a simple mark upon his skin had caused his once loving family to torture him so. If he allowed himself to think about it, he became angry and resentful, so it was best if he didn’t. “Daein; my homeland, is a particularly dangerous place for laguz and branded alike. The army was used to hunt them down not even a score ago. Those who are far more devout than I may explain it differently, but I see it as nothing but a pointless cruelty.”

“That’s awful. I can hardly even imagine treating a child in such away, and then for them to go through life after such a thing.” Chrom looked down at his hands, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Even just knowing that my little girl fought for so long on her own is painful enough; if this brand was seen as a mark of shame in our world as well, I don’t know that I could stand it. I don’t think I’d be very devout either, if my gods were that cruel.”

“As you say, Milord. I would very much like the answer to this question as well, but unfortunately, mortal men such as us can only speculate.” They fell silent for a time, pondering the conundrum at hand. He would have very much liked to hear the truth from Ashera herself; to ask her if he were truly something to be hated and reviled, or if he’d suffered for nothing. If his existence weren’t truly a sin… then could he have the things he wanted? If his life was not an affront to nature, then… could he finally share himself with her, in spite of it all?

“I’m sorry.” Chrom’s voice was soft and the frankness of the statement caught him off guard.

“Whatever for? You’ve done nothing wrong, Milord.”

“No but… you didn’t deserve it. Any of it.” Zelgius felt himself go cold. How had he known? He hadn’t told him; or even hinted, so how did this man figure it out? “Don’t worry, it’ll stay between us. I only figured it out thanks to the way you speak on the subject. I just wanted to let you know that you didn’t deserve the pain people caused you. You didn’t do anything wrong and your existence isn’t a sin--” Chrom rose to his feet and made his way around the table, laying his hand gently on his shoulder, “you deserved better.”

“... you’re more intuitive than I thought.” He could barely recognize his own voice, it was so feeble.

“So I’ve been told. You should get some rest, my friend. We have a hard day ahead of us. I think father Wrys is on duty right now if you need anything to help you sleep. Good night, Zelgius. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Zelgius said nothing as Chrom departed, slowly letting out the breath he’d been holding. What did this mean? If Chrom could accept him as he was so readily, did that mean that she could as well? He wanted to believe it to be true. She had been so… eager. She’d held his hand in the darkness, she’d been disappointed when she had to leave. She seemed to want his company. Should he tell her the truth? Fear filled him at the very thought. If he told her and she rejected him, he was certain that he would break. He couldn’t go through that again.

“What’re you doing up, Darlin’?” He turned towards her quickly, nearly knocking the table over in his haste to stand.

“Forgive me, My Lady; I hadn’t heard you come in.” She smiled softly at him, striding closer as she did so. It was rather strange to see her up so late, but he supposed the same could be said for himself, as well. His heart pounded in his ears as she came close, peering up at him.

“What’s the matter, Zel? You feeling okay, you look a little pale.” She came up onto her toes, pressing a warm hand against his forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.”

“I… just had a bad dream, is all. I needed a moment to collect myself before I tried sleeping again.” He wanted to linger, but he also desperately wanted to escape. He wanted to hold her, and he wanted to run. What did he do? He knew he should leave and agonize over this most recent turn of events in his tent, but she was right there and the dream was still so fresh in his mind, despite everything else that had happened. He wanted to feel her under his hands. “What about you?”

“I needed to use the bathroom and came in here to get a drink before going back to bed. What was the dream about? Do you need to talk about it?” She came a little closer, close enough now that her warmth radiated off of her and soaked into him. It would soon be too cold for them both to go about with so few layers, but for now, he was grateful for her state of dress.

“N-no, it’s fine. I just… I dreamt of you getting… _hurt_. It upset me,” he said. She nodded in understanding, placing her hands on his chest as she maneuvered him back into his chair. He grunted as his rear hit the seat, but he had little time to dwell on his surprise as she stepped between his knees and gently placed her hands on the back of his head.

“Come here, Darlin’.” She pulled him towards her so that his ear pressed against her chest. His eyes fell closed instinctively as he listened to the steady, soothing sound of her heart. Her arms cradled his head, her fingers combing through his hair in the way he liked. He could easily fall asleep like this. Would she let him? He longed to be closer. “Is that better?”

“Yes. I’m sorry… thank you.”

“You don’t need to apologize. We all need a little comfort sometimes.” She leaned down to press her lips against the crown of his head, humming happily as she did so. “You smell nice.”

“Do I? I’m glad you think so.”

“It’s weird. It’s so nostalgic, but I can’t really place what it is. I like it, though.” Rather than reply, Zelgius allowed himself to bury his face against her shoulder, stifling a yawn as he did so.

Her scent made him of home, but in an oddly idyllic way; a home he’d yet to know. Despite the misery his childhood had been, he had always loved autumn. With autumn came easily obtained food and the beautiful colors of the changing season. In many ways, she reminded him of that time of year, with her bright coppery hair and dappled skin. His arms hung awkwardly by his sides, though the desire to wrap them around her was nearly unbearable. What would she do if he did?

“You look sleepy. Why don’t we go to bed?” She murmured.

“I…” He wanted to stay with her. He felt so calm, as though he could truly sleep. “I want to stay like this a little longer… if that’s okay. Your company is soothing.”

“Then let’s go to bed.” He pulled back slightly, looking up at her incredulously.

“You don’t find that inappropriate?” If he were less of a gentleman, he would gladly take advantage of such an offer, but as things stood, he couldn’t fathom doing so. He was unworthy of her time and affection, and yet… here she was giving it. Surely she would come to see this in time.

“If you’re not comfortable with the idea, that’s okay; this is completely up to you; but I don’t think it’s inappropriate at all. There’s nothing wrong with two people trying to comfort each other.”

She was right of course. No one should judge her for anything she did, but he didn’t want to be the reason someone shamed her. He only ever wanted to bring her victory and pride. He worried his lip as he looked at her, searching her eyes for the answer to his inner conflict. He wanted to be close to her, but knew he didn’t deserve to be. He wanted to hold her, but worried what would happen if he did. He wanted to be with her, but was terrified that she wouldn’t feel the same.

“I--” he swallowed thickly, wetting his lips as he fought with himself. It would be so easy to run away and avoid her, but… running away from her no longer felt like an option. “Let’s go to bed.” She smiled gently and stepped away so that he could stand, wrapping her arms around his as he came to stand beside her. “Your tent might be less awkward come morning. Fewer people will be there to ask questions.”

“That’s true, though I don’t intend to let anyone ask me shit.” He didn’t doubt that. Evelyn was willful and stubborn, as uncontrollable as the wind itself. It was just one more thing he found charming about her.  
***  
Evelyn picked through her pack as she considered what she would wear to bed now that he would be there. She couldn’t change back into the shirt she’d been wearing before venturing out. It would be in poor taste to wear another man’s shirt while he was there, even if they were the same in theory. To her, they couldn’t be more different. She adored them both, but she couldn’t fathom having more than what she did with the younger, while the man waiting outside made her feel weak in the knees, like some a swooning idiot. With a shrug, she pulled a chemise from her pack, pulling it over her head quickly. It left little to the imagination; but in the end, she didn’t really mind. She doubted he would pay much attention to how the chill affected her.

“Okay, I’m done.” He joined her, shifting awkwardly on the spot before kneeling to remove his boots. She plopped down onto her pallet, watching as he seemed to consider his options before striding across the tent.

“We _do_ have cots, you know?” He asked, settling down beside her.

“I don’t like them. They creak too much when I move and my back always hurts after I sleep on them.”

“I see.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, shifting closer to her as he began to get more comfortable in their new environment. His eyes wandered around himself briefly, as though he was trying to find something to talk about. “I… didn’t know you played any instruments.” She followed his gaze to the case propped up against her trunk.

“Yeah. I had the castle carpenter make it for me when I came here. I barely had anything of mine when I got here; pretty much just the clothes I was wearing and what was in my purse. I’ll play for you some time, if you’d like.”

“I… would like that quite a lot.” He’d always enjoyed music. He’d rarely heard any as a child, and what he’d heard had been little more than hymns praising Ashera and her wisdom; something he found himself doubting more and more every day. “Do you sing as well?”

“I’m no Azura, but I can carry a tune well enough. I did theater all through school, so singing was kind of a requirement,” she said. Zelgius scooted closer, engrossed in her voice. She was speaking so softly, he found himself wanting to bring his face closer to hear her soft drawl better. He stifled a yawn as she leaned against his side. It was beginning to feel natural.

“I’d like to hear it one day,” he said. Evelyn smiled up at him, her gaze soft. The fear that had been so present earlier was nowhere to be found as he felt her fingers come to rest against his.

“Let’s kill the lamp and try to sleep, Darlin’. We’ve got a busy day ahead.” He nodded and lay back, pulling the covers over himself as she doused the light. Cast in darkness, she became intimately aware of the heat radiating off of him. He was incredibly warm, warmer than she remembered. She felt him shift beside her and reached out her hand, her palm resting against his back momentarily before she scooted closer and allowed herself to drape over him. Her arm draped over his ribs, and one of her legs nestled in the curve of his waist. She was comically small next to him, but she didn’t mind. It felt good to hold him. She felt him chuckle beside her, the feeling reverberating through his ribs and into her.

“What’re you gigglin’ about?” She asked.

“I feel like I’m wearing a knapsack,” he said, wiggling back to press into her more solidly. "You're so small." She huffed and leaned forward, biting down on the fleshy junction of his neck and shoulder. He stiffened under her hands, his breath hitching. At first, she was afraid she’d hurt him, but as she felt the shudder shoot through him, she came to realize that he liked it. She took a deep breath and squeezed him. They were supposed to be sleeping, but the ache between her thighs would make that difficult for her.

“Careful, sugar. This knapsack might leave a bruise,” she teased. Zelgius chuckled again, settling in as she let her lips linger against his neck. She took a moment to breathe, burying her face against his shoulder. It was embarrassing to feel this way; shameful even. Her lack of faith didn’t protect her from the way she was brought up, and knowing that her parents would be scandalized never failed to make her feel guilty, even if it rarely stopped her from doing what she wanted. One could only be told that their desires were sinful and deviant so many times before they began to feel filthy in the face of them, and her grandparents did love to tell her that she was selfish and sinful for her disinterest in serving as a broodmare for the family. Wasn’t Avery already taking care of that? Couldn’t she and Wylie just be themselves?

“What’re you thinking about?” His question came as a surprise, but the sincerity in his voice kept her from laughing.

“My family, I guess. Sometimes I end up wondering about them.” She tightened her grip on him, relishing in the solidness of him.

“Sad things?” He shifted in her arms, pushing himself over to face her. Maybe he didn’t realize how close they were in the darkness; or maybe he just didn’t care, but his change in position had her thigh nestled between his legs. His masculinity had never escaped her notice, but she’d never been more aware of it than she was in that moment.

“N-no,” she squeaked, her cheeks burning as her mind focused ever more intensely on what was currently pressed against her leg. “Just uh… you know… thinking about my grandparents. And my sisters.” He shifted away slightly, granting her a reprieve. She felt like she had too much information and not enough all at once.

“How old are you sisters, Evelyn? You and your brother were the oldest, yes?” He asked, his fingers toying idly with her hair. He was being sweet, the best she could do for him was to ignore the way her body ached and the dampness pooling between her legs. If she’d known he was going to make her feel this way, she wouldn’t have offered to share her bed.

“Wylie is 22, and Avery is 20. Avery’s little boy is 4 and her daughter is 2.” Remembering the scandal her sister’s first pregnancy had been helped alleviate her need somewhat. There was nothing sexy about that, after all.

“What of her husband?” Why was he suddenly so interested in the mundane make up of her family? They had skeletons in the closet just like anyone else, but certainly nothing he would find particularly useful.

“She doesn’t have a husband. She had both of her kids with guys she was dating, but they didn’t exactly stick around once they knocked her up. She’s got real shit taste in men, I have to say.” She didn’t blame her sister for this. It was the men who were awful, not Avery. Avery, for all her flaws, was a good person who didn’t deserve the scorn heaped upon her, though she found it hard not to resent her and Wylie sometimes.

“Your sister was young when she had her first child… I…” he paused, seemingly to find a delicate way to phrase his next sentence, “it must have been hard for your family.”

“It was hardest for Avery. She was only 16 and the whole family was pissed at her. I remember when she told mama she was pregnant, I thought she was gonna kill her right then. She didn’t speak to Avery for three days. It was always like that. She was still young when Daddy passed, and me and Everett weren't exactly the best replacements for parents. We could deal with it, but it was hard for Wylie and Avery. I think that’s why Avery rebelled the way she did; but damn that was a mess. The first guy was 24 to her 16. We’d known him since we were all kids. When she told us, it took everything we had not to kill him.” She sighed, pressing her face against his chest. She remembered Avery’s tears vividly as they sat in their grandparents’ kitchen together, listening to the outraged conversation in the next room. Everett had been more angry than she’d ever seen him; not at Avery, but all the other adults in the room with him. He didn’t understand why they were only angry with their sister, but said next to nothing about the grown man that had used his experience and charm to take advantage of her vulnerability. No matter how bratty the girl was, she would never forgive them for how they treated her; and how it had ruined her. “What about your family, Zelgius? You’ve never talked about them before.”

“There’s… not much to tell, I’m afraid. You’ve heard the most important part already.” He paused as he attempted to read her mood in the dark. While she didn’t expect it of him, she still wanted to know everything about him, even the painful parts. “I was the youngest of six children. My oldest brother was already out of the house and married by the time I was old enough to remember him, and my oldest sister left us when I was ten, maybe. We were not terribly unlike your own family. Hardly the poorest in the village, but not wealthy, either. We simply… got by.”

“I always took you for some fancy nobleman for the way you talk and carry yourself. Besides, in my world, the sword was a nobleman’s weapon. It wasn’t something some yokel would have access to,” she said.

“I most certainly was not. Lord Sephiran granted me a title later, but I was no more than a common soldier for most of my life. I left home as soon as I was able.” He paused, scooting a little closer as his arm draped over her. “I saw my eldest sister years later. She’d come to Nevassa to find me, but I was… bitter. I refused to speak with her, childishly blaming her for the way I’d been treated. I suppose… I just needed someone to heap blame upon; and to me, she did nothing in the face of what she saw. She died not long after that… I still feel guilty about it.” His voice wavered slightly, his smooth voice growing strained. Evelyn reached out in the darkness and let her hand cup his cheek, her thumb trailing over his cheekbone. She didn’t want to force him to talk more than he was willing to. They had time. Just knowing that he trusted her enough to try was enough.

“I’m sorry, Darlin’. I can tell this is a hard subject for you; we can stop talking about it if you want to. Take your time.”

“Thank you. At least for now… some day, though… I want to tell you everything.” So did she. She wanted someone else to know about the things she’d done and what had apparently made her a hero in the Breidablik’s warped sense of the word. It was comforting to know that he was willing to share himself and it gave her courage to one day do the same.

“I’ll wait for you. There’s more I want to tell you, too.” The air grew heavy as her words hung between them, their meaning clear. All pretense of platonic feelings fled, if they’d ever been there at all. Zelgius chuckled weakly, the sound apprehensive.

“Then I look forward to it. In the meantime… I shall remain at your side, just as I am.” Her breath hitched as he leaned forward in the darkness, his lips finding the corner of her mouth before he pulled away, rolling onto his back. Her heart slammed against her ribs, playing the moment over and over in her mind. His lips were soft, the touch fleeting and shy. All she wanted in that moment was to pull him back to her and press her lips against his, but she wouldn’t. Not yet. She wasn’t ready for such a step, and if she had to guess, neither was he. Rather than act on her desires, she simply found her way onto his shoulder, her hand once again resting on his chest, smiling to herself as she felt the way his heart beat a little faster than normal.

“Goodnight, Zelgius.”

“Goodnight, Evelyn. Sweet dreams.” How could they be anything but with him there?  
***  
He woke to the feeling of her weight against him, her hand pressed solidly over his heart, and her breath tickling against his jaw. It would be dawn soon, and people would be up and about. He had a narrow window in which he could get away without arousing suspicion. He longed to be as confident as she was, but the very thought of the others catching him coming out of her tent made him feel ill. If they saw him, they may think that something untoward had happened between them and think less of her. He couldn’t allow that… so why couldn’t he get himself to move?

He peered at the woman beside him, only able to make out her basic form in the dimness of the tent. She was sleeping soundly beside him, her head cradled against his shoulder. He was reminded of the night they met and how she’d held his hand in her sleep. She’d been so lively and ecstatic to see him awake, and despite his trepidation, he found her mood infectious. Over the past months, she’d become important to him; easily as important as Sephiran had been before he’d come to Askr, but more tangible somehow.

She was willing to share herself in ways Sephiran never really had; and despite the affection they had for one another, he didn’t feel that he would feel comfortable truly divulging his past to his master. It would feel like a burden to share these things with Sephiran, whereas with Evelyn it felt… perhaps not natural, but safe. He wasn’t certain telling her the whole truth of the matter would solve anything, but he still felt as though it would lighten the load, even if only a little.

Evelyn sighed and shifted beside him, her leg settling over his hips as she curled closer against his side. His hand rested cautiously on her knee, feeling the smooth, raised texture of the scar with his fingers. Did she dislike this scar? Did it make her feel insecure, or damaged? He could admit to himself that it wasn’t pretty to look at; the thick, purple tissue stuck out harshly against her pale skin, and yet he found himself fascinated by it. He could tell by the size and shape that the wound had been significant, and the changes it made to her knee itself were likely very painful, yet she still managed to get around without help and even fight well enough. In spite of the damage caused to her, she was still capable. Perhaps, given time and proper guidance, he too could do that.

“You okay, Darlin’?” Her voice was soft and groggy, her words punctuated by the way she brushed her nose against his jaw.

“I am. I was just ruminating on how badly this must have hurt.”

“To be honest, I barely noticed until we’d been evacuated. I just knew I couldn’t put weight on it. Adrenaline kept me going until we were safe.” His mind turned to the mark he’d seen peeking out from under her sleeve the day before and weighed his options. He needed to know.

“May I ask you something?” He needed to be careful. If Chrom could figure out his secret just by the way he spoke on the issue, then surely she would be able to as well.

“You know you can.”

“It may be a touch sensitive, but I need to know… that mark on your arm…” he trailed off awkwardly, unsure of himself.

“Oh that? Here, I’ll show you.” He heard her shift on the pallet and heard the sound of her lighting the lamp nearby. He blinked several times to banish the spots in his vision before sitting up beside her as she pulled the sleeve of her chemise up to expose her arm. His eyes swept over the names and dates inscribed there, recognizing the handwriting as hers, the script neat and simple. “It’s a memorial of sorts, I guess. A reminder.” He read the names silently, his heart hurting as he reached the final one: ‘Everett Reese Malone, 1990-2015’

In spite of himself, he trailed his thumb over the list, feeling the slightly raised texture of her skin. She didn’t pull away or flinch, simply watching him as he sorted through his feelings. She wasn’t branded as he was, but in a way, these marks on her skin were a weight all their own. They were still very different, but still more alike than most.

“Who were these five?” His tone was soft, his finger trailing lightly over the handful of names above that of her brother.

“They were members of my squad.” They all bore the same ending date, telling him everything he needed to know about how they met their ends. “I was their direct superior. I failed them and their families. So there they are, reminding me of that forever.” One name stuck out because of the relatively short period of time from their beginning to their end. Riley Burgess was only 18 when they’d died that day. He didn’t doubt that such a thing weighed heavily on her mind.

“Evelyn… I’m sorry.” He tugged her sleeve down to cover the names, hiding her self-imposed brand from view once more. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Don’t worry about it. If there’s anyone here I don’t mind telling about this, it’s you. Don’t make me add your name to the list and I’m happy enough.” She leaned against him then, her head coming to rest against his arm. “I don’t want to get up. You’re warm.”

It would be impossible for them to linger in bed all day. This was the day they were to attempt their rescue of Princess Gunnthrá, an operation that wouldn’t be made easy for them. Regardless of what they wanted, fate would hurl them forward. Zelgius chuckled sadly, allowing himself to bask in her presence for a moment longer before forcing himself to pull away. If he didn’t leave soon, he wouldn’t be able to.

“I share your feelings on the matter, but unfortunately we must rise. The others will no doubt be up soon. I shall see you soon, My Lady. Thank you for allowing me the honor of your company.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles before standing, only able to pull away because he could hear their nearby comrades moving about. He allowed himself one more lingering look at the charming flush on her cheeks before shoving on his boots and timing his escape. He needed to wash up and prepare for breakfast, lest the whole army smell her upon him.  
***  
Evelyn looked once more at herself in the mirror, turning her head to see the back of her hair. She knew it was pointless to try and make herself look more put together on a day like this one, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to look her best, more so than ever. It was a silly, girlish inclination; one she’d thought she’d long since outgrown, but something about him made her feel so much younger than she was. Maybe it was stupid; but then again, she’d always thought these feelings were as well.

She fastened her cloak around her shoulders and took a deep breath. She had no choice but to leave the quiet sanctuary of her tent and prepare for what they would face in a mere matter of hours. She had no illusions that people wouldn’t be hurt, nor did she expect to come out of this without collateral damage. Múspell was intent on hunting down and killing the Nifl royal family, and she doubted that they would allow a sleepy town full of civilians stand in the way of that goal. Evacuating the town would be impossible without bringing attention to themselves and endangering Gunnthrá. Their best bet was to send in a small team to retrieve her while the main body of the army held their enemies at bay. She knew she could trust Zelgius to lead the front line, but she only hoped that she could count on him to be alive at the end of the day.

She flinched against the cold morning air, the sting of it in her throat causing her to cough. And then she coughed harder. And harder. Her throat ached from the force, but the fit passed quickly. She straightened and waited, trying to decide whether or not she was concerned. She felt fine outside of the soreness of her throat, but she knew herself well enough to know that she didn’t cough like that for no reason.

“Evelyn, are you well?” She turned her head to meet Fjorm’s concerned gaze, smiling grimly as the girl came to stand beside her.

“I’m not sure, honey. I… don’t go spreading this around, okay? We can’t have people worried about me before we get your sister.”

“How long have you been coughing like this?” Fjorm asked, reaching out to press her palm to her forehead.

“That’s the first time I’ve had this happen.” She wouldn’t tell her about the other strange goings on. That was something that she would keep to herself until later, when she could catch one of the healers alone.

“You should go see a healer before breakfast. We can’t afford for you to fall ill, friend.” She knew that better than most. She knew what would happen if she became too sick to help out, but she also knew it was important to appear strong in front of the troops. “Please don’t put it off. Let’s go now.”

“You don’t need to walk with me, honey. You should go on and get something to eat.” Fjorm stood her ground, her eyebrows arching. The girl was more stubborn than she’d thought. “Fine. Let’s go then.”

“Excellent!” Fjorm fell into step beside her, humming under her breath as they walked. Evelyn listened to her song in silence, finding the sound of her voice pleasant despite her quietness. “May I ask you something?” Fjorm’s sudden question ended the song, but that was okay, she supposed.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“W-well… it’s um… you see…” Fjorm took a deep breath and tried again, her cheeks bright pink. “Do you think it’s wrong for a woman to like another woman?” Evelyn’s steps faltered as she came to realize what Fjorm was asking. What was it about her that made other people ask her stuff like that? Did she just come across as that trustworthy?

“No, I don’t think it’s wrong at all. Love is love, and the love between two women is just as valid as it is between two men, a man and a woman, or anyone in between.” Who was it that had caught her eye? They were surrounded by a lot of beautiful people, many of whom were very kind and loveable. It could be almost anyone.

“So… even if I were to love a woman… other people would accept me?”

“Some might not. I can’t promise everyone will be understanding or supportive, but I think the majority of folks here will be. If what you’ve told me about your sister is true, she will be, too.” Fjorm was silent a moment, considering her words before nodding, a shy smile on her face.

“Thank you, Evelyn. I’m comforted just knowing that I’m not some manner of deviant.” Even here they were taught that loving someone of the same gender was wrong? Some things really were just universal, she supposed. Ignorance wasn’t confined to any single world, after all.

“You’re not. Those feelings are natural, and I think you should embrace them.”

“I… only hope that she will return them. How should I tell her?” She asked.

“Flowers, maybe? A letter? There’s lots of ways to tell someone you like them.”

“Flowers… yes that may work. I believe I saw a patch of frost flowers near the edge of camp. Perhaps I’ll pick some after breakfast.” She was excited it seemed. Evelyn hummed, hoping that she wouldn’t take it too hard if she were turned down. Fjorm had been through some awful things during the past several months. Finding someone to share the burden would help. They came to a halt outside the healer’s tent, pausing only briefly before entering together.

“Oh, hey Evelyn! Good morning Fjorm!” Lissa’s cheerful tone didn’t match the dour surroundings.

“Good morning, honey. You sleep well?” Evelyn asked, watching as Fjorm nodded a greeting and made her escape, probably off to find those flowers she’d mentioned or hurry to the mess.

“Uh huh! What’s up? It’s not like you to come by here. Is something wrong?” Evelyn sighed, her desire to handle it on her own faltering now that someone had asked. It would be so much easier just to be honest about everything that had been going on.

“I… don’t know, really. I haven’t been feeling quite right for a few weeks.” Since they’d crossed over into Nifl, to be completely honest. Something had changed the moment they’d arrived, as though something unseen were pulling on her. Maybe Gunnthrá would have an idea about that.

“Okay, what’re some of your symptoms?” Lissa asked, taking a seat on the nearby stool, gesturing for her to do the same.

“Mostly I just get light headed, and my neck and head hurt a lot more than usual. I’m pretty sure it’s from the stress, but I can’t say for sure since I get chills and my fingers sometimes go numb. I had a pretty nasty coughing fit a bit ago, too.” Saying it out loud made the list of ailments sound even odder. She didn’t know enough about illnesses to make an educated guess, and her phone didn’t work in this world; though it probably wouldn’t be much help even if it did. She was sure the internet would just tell her she had cancer.

“Mmmm… stress is probably a factor, it can affect different people in some pretty crazy ways. I can give you an herbal draught that should help calm you, though I don’t suggest drinking it unless you’re about to go to bed. Other than that, we can try some massages and light magical treatment, but I want to share your symptoms and get some more opinions on them before we commit to anything serious. I’ll talk with the others in a bit and we’ll nail down a solution together.” Lissa said, hopping to her feet.

“That… yeah. That sounds good. We’ll try that first, then.”

“Good! Let me rub your shoulders for you, then. Maybe that’ll help you calm down a little!” Evelyn nodded her consent and shrugged out of her cloak and robe, allowing Lissa to begin squeezing and kneading the painfully stiff muscles in her neck and shoulders. “Gods, Evelyn. You feel like a cobblestone street back here! No wonder your neck and head hurt.” Lissa exclaimed, digging her fingers mercilessly into the knots. “I suggest finding a friend with strong fingers who won’t mind helping you out.”

Evelyn flushed at the first name that popped into her mind. She was hopeless. The man had managed to worm his way into her heart and mind thoroughly. There were plenty of people she could ask for something like that comfortably. Hector wouldn’t make her feel that way, neither would Sonya or Minerva, so why did she want him to be the one to do this so badly?

“Thanks, honey. I’ll… give that a try tonight, maybe. Provided we’re all alive at the end of the day.”

“I think we’ll be okay. I trust you and everyone else. Come by tonight and I’ll give you the herbs you need. Drink the draught about an hour before you’re ready to go to bed.” Lissa said, rubbing a strong smelling ointment on her neck and shoulders, the hot, tingling feeling it brought with it incredibly familiar and soothing. “Now let’s go get some grub, okay?”

Evelyn nodded, rising to her feet as she pulled her protective layers back on. She appreciated Lissa’s faith, but she wasn’t sure it helped with the stress she was under. If Lissa trusted her, that meant that she couldn’t fail, and eventually, she would. It was the lot of every falliable human; no one was right all the time.  
***  
Evelyn studied the map in front of her, only half listening to the chatter of the other tacticians in the tent with her. From their position, Forsvollr was only an hour’s ride away. They would need to leave a small, but strong retinue of soldiers behind to protect the camp, but the bulk of their forces would be needed to repel any opposition. They just needed information from the scouts. Surely they’d be back soon; it had been a while since they’d left.

“What’re your thoughts, Evelyn?” Robin asked, coming to stand beside her.

“I don’t have many at the moment. We all know the same things right now, but I definitely think we need to hurry. If they get to her before we do, we’re up the creek.”

“Do you really think they’d kill such a valuable bargaining chip? With Princess Gunnthrá in their custody, they could demand almost anything out of us and the remainder of Nifl,” Leo said, joining them at the table.

“I wouldn’t try to rationalize the irrational, honey. They don’t want to bargain, if they did they would have already. All they want is unconditional surrender. Surtr doesn’t seem to care if there’s anyone left to rule after he’s done. He just wants to burn it all down; he’s not a man anymore, just a force of nature,” Evelyn said, standing up straight.

“I know you’re right, but… it just seems so pointless. So wasteful.”

“Well, that’s because it is. If you come up with a way to reason with him, let me know.” Evelyn shrugged, turning towards the entrance as three newcomers pushed their way inside. Camilla’s face was uncharacteristically grim. “What’s the damage?”

“Their forces are moving on the town from the east, just as we suspected. They’re slowed by their convoy and the terrain, which should give us a little time to get set up, but… my concern lies most with who leads them.” Camilla glanced towards Leo, her expression hardening. “Our brother truly is a stubborn man.”

It had been a while since they’d last had the pleasure of seeing Xander. He and Veronica had been too busy to play with them, she supposed. If he was there, that probably meant his petulant charge was around as well.

“Well, that helps us, I guess. Anyone else important we should know about?”

“Not that we saw. We didn’t see Princess Veronica, but I would count on her presence. Their force is large, but I have confidence in us,” Minerva said. Evelyn nodded, looking more closely at the map. They had the advantage of terrain if they were coming from the east, and they were much closer to the town itself, but with such a narrow window, it would be hard for them to fortify their position, and it would take time for Niles and the others to get to Gunnthrá. This wouldn’t be made easy for them.

“Go ahead and tell the extraction team to head out. They’ll have an easier time moving unnoticed if they go alone. Gather everyone else for a briefing and we’ll prepare to move.” They could stand around and talk about strategy all day, but that could only help up to a point. They needed to get out there and see for themselves what the conditions were actually like.

“You look particularly nervous today, Evelyn,” Soren noted, his shrewd eyes narrowing marginally. They’d long since passed to point of bickering and snide comments at each other’s expense, but that didn’t keep him from being his usual blunt self.

“I’m fine. It’s just… a little _fiddly_ , is all. Lots of moving parts.”

“This is true. There’s quite a lot that could go wrong, but I think we’ll manage. Our strategy is solid, and we have contingencies set up in case it falls through,” Robin’s voice was soothing, his confidence in both her and their plan reassuring. When the others nodded in agreement, she felt calm come over her. She wasn’t completely alone in this. They’d be okay. They had to be.  
***  
Zelgius’ eyes roamed the faces of the men and women under his command, inspecting their weapons and armor as they waited for their enemy to arrive. The waiting was always the worst part, but he’d gotten used to it over the years. He watched the cavalry preparing themselves, Prince Siegbert’s disquiet obvious from even where he was standing.

The boy had all but begged not to be left behind when he’d been made aware that his father was the one leading the enemy. He wanted to attempt to talk sense into the man, hoping that his words would sway him where those of his aunts and uncle had failed. He felt sorry for the young man; it was very obvious to him that seeing his father as an enemy weighed heavily on his conscience. He turned his attention away, running a gloved finger over the edge of Effie’s spearhead.

“You’re worried about Prince Siegbert?” She asked. He’d been surprised the first time he’d heard her speak. Her voice was far huskier than what her delicate features suggested.

“A touch, perhaps. He’s a man in theory, but still very young and naive. I don’t wish to see such a person killed before they can reach their full potential.”

“I’d say you don’t need to worry, but I understand what you mean. Prince Siegbert is a gentle soul. He doesn’t like hurting other people, and seeing his family torn apart like this is probably hard for him,” she said, leaning slightly on the haft of her lance. “Maybe you could say something to him? You might make more of an impact than I would.” Zelgius looked at the boy once more, watching as he checked and rechecked his equipment. What could he possibly say that would make him feel better?

“Is that a request, Milady?”

“I’d appreciate it. He might not be my charge, but he’s still someone I care for, and I’m no good with words in this kind of situation,” Effie said. Zelgius nodded, searching the crowd briefly before landing on the man he wanted.

“Hector, may I leave the inspection to you and Dame Effie?” Hector grinned and fell out of formation, joining him up front.

“Of course, friend. We’ll finish up here. You do what you have to.” Zelgius smiled, nodding his thanks before making his way towards the young man just up the hill.

“Prince Siegbert, a word please?” He watched as the young man went still in his saddle, his russet eyes snapping towards him immediately.

“Of course! What may I do for you, General?”

“I merely wished to check on you. This will no doubt be a difficult battle for you,” Zelgius said. He watched as the boy seemed to deflate in his saddle, his eyes flickering away briefly before meeting his once more.

“I know everyone thinks I’m being foolish, hoping I can sway my father; but I can’t sit by and do nothing. He would be ashamed of me if I didn’t even try.”

“I don’t know if it’s necessarily foolish to hope for such a thing. I know all too well how much it hurts to be forced to fight against one you care for. I only hope that you will not allow that hope to blind you to what matters today,” Zelgius said. Siegbert shook his head, a sad smile spreading across his face.

“No, no. If Father will not listen to reason, then I will do what I must. It may hurt me to do it, but I will not allow myself to be swayed, nor will I allow myself to fall before my time. You needn’t worry, Sir. My loyalties lie here.”

“That was never in question, Milord. I only wish for you to end the day whole and unharmed.” Their conversation came to a halt as Evelyn approached them, her expression determined; though he’d known her long enough to see the doubt simmering just below the surface. He wished there weren’t so many people around. He very much wanted to hold her hand and soothe her worries.

“Everything okay on your end, Darlin’?” She would call him that in public? He expected to only ever hear such a thing when they were alone and no one would become suspicious. Did she not mind if people thought there was more between them? Was there more? He cleared his throat and forced himself to respond, his ears warming considerably as he met her eyes.

“Yes, My Lady. We’re as ready as we can be. Are you well?” He asked, glancing towards the horizon.

“I’m fine. Walk with me a second, will you?”

“Of course. Excuse me, Your Highness.” Zelgius fell into step beside her, following her towards their hasty fortifications.

“Things are going to get really ugly really quickly. Don’t ask me how I know this, I just feel it. I don’t expect a promise, but please be careful.” She looked genuinely afraid, as though she worried he would go the way of the people she’d already lost.

“I swear to you I shall be as careful as one can be.”

“Don’t make me cry.” Her hand rested against his forearm, and he cursed the layers of steel and leather that kept them apart.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, My Lady.” He brought her gauntleted hand to his lips, allowing the linger briefly against the cold metal. She smiled halfheartedly, calmed slightly by the gesture before she squared her shoulders and looked out over the land that would soon become a battleground.

“It’s time. Take your post, General.” She squeezed his hand, turning away and hurried back up the hill towards her mount, swinging herself quickly into the saddle. He watched for only a moment as she leaned down to say something to his twin, her hand resting amiably on his shoulder. Zelgius rejoined Hector and Effie, donning his helm just as the first sign of their opponents crested the hill. He understood now what Prince Innes had meant. She predicted their arrival with unsettling accuracy.

They’d not had time to dig trenches. They’d only had time to lay a few traps and construct simple earthen barricades along the hill, and breastwork for the archers and mages. They only needed to wait for their opponents to get closer. Zelgius held his breath as their cavalry neared the center of the field.

“Archers! Mages! Ready. Fire!” All at once, a volley of fireballs and flaming arrows rained down upon the charging horses, and Zelgius wrinkled his nose as the grass caught fire; the smell of paraffin oil immediately rising to meet him as thick, black smoke billowed upward. Their trap had been simple, but it worked marvelously. Within moments, the field below was roaring with bright orange flames, the screams of man and horse drowned out as the smoke choked them. The earthen walls they’d built at the below them would keep the fire from reaching them should it spread that far, but their enemy would have no such reprieve. This fire would burn for a good while.

“Watch your flanks! Keep to high ground,” Evelyn ordered. He was glad the fire and smoke were so far away. It would be awful to attempt to fight while squinting through smoke. From their vantage, they could see what was left of their cavalry charging through, skirting the areas still burning. Some would attempt to come up the center of the hill, directly into the heart of their front line, where halberdiers and pikemen were ready to engage them. It was their flanks where they were more vulnerable, but they had something waiting there, as well. As cavalry and a few infantrymen reached the first choke on their left flank, he heard the order he was least looking forward to. “Set them off.”

The sound of an explosion tore through the air, horses on both sides startling as the sound echoed for several moments. His ears rang, but the feeling subsided quickly. Soon thereafter, there was a second explosion, from the right this time. He knew that any soldier unlucky enough to be trapped within that was nothing more than a mangled heap; if the explosion itself didn’t hit them, the nails and other bits of scrap metal hidden within the small casks they’d used most certainly did. They were out of tricks now, they’d only had time to build two black powder bombs. Success or failure now hinged on their ability to fight and kill, but this had likely evened the odds significantly. Even just damaging enemy morale could turn the tides, and he could hardly imagine a more demoralizing sight than seeing comrades burned to death or eviscerated by flying metal.

“Advance to the choke!” Upon her orders, Zelgius did as he was told. He and the other heavy infantry would hold the flanks while cavalry provided support. Their enemies would be funnelled in by debris and piled earth, but it was truly on them to make advancing impossible. If they could hold their flanks, then those in the center would have an easier time. From above, he heard the shrill screeching of wyverns and the nervous whinnies of pegasi as an aerial battle ensued. As much as he hated it, he knew he would have to trust his other self to protect Evelyn. His duty was elsewhere. He braced himself as the first wave of soldiers came upon him, his mind going blank of all but the most basic instinct, his body reacting solely on its conditioning. Fight so that he may survive, and survive so that he may once again see her smile.  
***  
Things became chaotic very quickly as their enemy recovered from the shock of the fire and explosions, but their line held firm. Múspell’s forces pushed and pushed, but the chokes at their flanks held and the pikemen and halberdiers at the center held their cavalry at bay. Evelyn looked up, peering through the smoke and dust to catch glimpses of the battle overhead. It was hard to tell who was winning, but she wasn’t worried as of yet. Her head whipped around as she heard a familiar voice, gripping her reins tightly as their centerline gave way momentarily. Xander had finally managed to break through it seemed.

Before she could say anything, a black and gold blur blew by her. Siegbert wedged himself between his father and herself, his sword drawn but in a non-committal way. The boy didn’t want to fight, but she had the sinking feeling in her gut that told her he would have no choice. If Xander hadn’t been moved by the rest of his family, why would he listen to him?

“Father.” Siegbert’s voice was firmer than she’d expected. There was no nervous waver, only a quiet kind of determination.

“I’m sorry; I don’t yet have a son. I’m not the father you know.” Xander’s reply was curt, though not unkind. “Stand aside or fight, boy. I have no time for games.”

“ _Father_ , have you no care for your family? Where is the honorable man I know? My father would never serve such an ignoble cause.” Siegbert stood firm, his sword twitching slightly. Evelyn watched as Xander spurred his mount in an attempt to get around him, but the young man was simply too quick. Xander was becoming visibly frustrated, but still didn’t attack. Her eyes wandered away from them briefly, glancing around at the mess in front of her. Everything seemed to swirl and roil like the tide as it slammed against the beach. Xander hadn’t been the only one to breach their line, but those others were engaged. Mages rained magic down on their heads and their backline defenders rushed to form a blockade to keep them away from herself and those more vulnerable to physical attack.

“You’re _naive_ , boy. Your father was just as flawed as I. I fight for Princess Veronica, not any cause. Now, either raise your sword or move.” Xander swung his weapon, its violet flames flaring as it clashed against Siegbert’s.

“You fight for a stranger while your own flesh and blood pleads for peace?” Siegbert challenged, remaining stubbornly between them.

“ _You’re no family of mine_.” Those words hung in the air, their purpose clear. Siegbert paused briefly, as though shocked to hear such a dismissive declaration from the man he’d always admired so much, but he didn’t linger on it long.

“Then I have no more to say.” Siegbert gave his father no time to consider his meaning. His sword crashed down onto Xander’s, his full strength on full display now that his last bit of hope fled. She’d always seen this side to him, but he rarely made it known. Siegbert had all the makings of an excellent soldier and a fine leader, he just needed to find his confidence. She wouldn’t interfere. It wasn’t her place, nor did she feel he needed help. Siegbert’s values and beliefs would be challenged and torn away here. This would be difficult for him, and he would need to overcome it if he ever wanted to be the man he would have to be.

Her attention was wrenched towards their back vanguard, her blood running cold. Thick, black smoke rose from the sleepy town behind them, puffs of dust shooting into the air. No one had noticed, but reinforcements had managed to get behind them and now, the people they’d tried so hard not to involve were at risk and they were caught between two armies. She looked back towards Xander, catching his eye as he retreated from Siegbert’s assault.

“I apologize,” he said. His tone and expression were grim. “If you choose to attempt to help the civilians, I will not try to stop you. It was not my wish to involve them,” Xander said. Evelyn frowned and squared her shoulders.

“Everyone stay where you are,” she ordered.

“Evelyn! What about the people?” Sharena pleaded. Xander’s surprised expression gave her a grim sort of satisfaction.

“If you want to help them, then this needs to end quickly.” Taking out their commanding officer would go a long way in ensuring that they weren’t followed upon retreating. They simply couldn’t afford to turn their backs on the enemy they were currently engaging. It was time for them to make the final push. “Advance and rout the enemy.”  
***  
The order came down with a finality that none would dare ignore. They had little time, and it was uncertain if they would even have the strength to engage the reinforcements that had arrived. What had begun as a much more straightforward operation was now much messier and difficult. Once again, she’d predicted the turn of events with an uncomfortable clarity.

Their formations had broken down significantly once their orders changed, though their enemy was making little progress in making it into the heart of their army. From where he was, he could see Prince Siegbert and his father still embroiled in a fight, though it was difficult to say who was winning; his army, however, was steadily falling back.They wouldn’t hang on much longer, he’d already seen a few soldiers desert. Zelgius hissed as something struck him in the back, turning to face his new opponent. He sized up the enemy lancer, taking note of their weapon. Heavy spears like these were bothersome. He stepped to the side as they thrust again, wincing at the way his shoulders ached. He would have a nasty bruise there later. He swore under his breath as another soldier joined the fray, a warhammer raised over his head. He could deal with the hammer quickly thanks to its short reach, but the lance would be more problematic. He needed to deal with them quickly.

A sound tore through the air, echoing across the field. Zelgius watched as the lancer staggered, slumping to the ground, a fine red mist settling into the dirt. It was only when he looked closer that he realized it was blood. The hammer wielding soldier shrunk back, his weapon still raised. Zelgius hazarded a glance over his shoulder seeing Evelyn for the first time since the battle had begun. She lowered her weapon, the cold fury in her eyes stealing his breath.

“Retreat!” Prince Xander’s order was a surprise, but what was left of his army was all too eager to oblige. Men and women turned away and ran, chased only briefly by their own.

“Let them go. We have bigger problems.” Evelyn’s voice was hard, but he could hear the note of exhaustion. What were they going to do about the town under siege? About the enemy currently trying to drag them into another fight?

“Evelyn? We’re open to suggestions,” Anna said. Evelyn remained silent, simply staring at the scene before them. Zelgius watched as she seemed to work through the problem, her mouth moving silently, eyes darting to and fro. “Evelyn?”

“We need to go. We’ve done what we came to do. They’re just trying to goad us into another fight. One we can’t win.” Evelyn’s shoulders slumped, her fists clenching. “Send a runner ahead of us, tell the reserves to get moving. We’ll rendezvous with Niles and the others and move on before they realize what we’re doing.”

“But--”

“ _We can’t save everybody._ ” To some, perhaps she seemed cruel and dismissive of the pain this would cause, but Zelgius understood. This was a matter of life and death, and they had a very small window in which they could escape and regroup. It would be better to cut their losses here and quit the field.

“Retreat!” Anna seemed to understand this as well. There was no help for the town behind them. Any who had seen this sort of thing before knew that well. Those that hadn’t, would have to learn it. Such was the way of war.  
***  
The mood in camp was dark.They had put much distance between themselves and the city of Forsvollr; which was undoubtedly a smouldering ruin now. Those that survived the assault on their city would be either cut down by their enemies or wander the cold wastes, where they would likely perish. It was a grim reality, and it weighed heavily on everyone.

Princess Gunnthrá was among them now, her calm, measured response a balm for their collective conscience, but even so, he could see how it had hurt her. These were her people, those she was sworn to protect, and instead they’d died in order to get her to safety; but she was not where his concern was.

He carried the tray of stew and water carefully through the rows of tents, his pace slow and careful. Evelyn had neglected to come to supper, but he wouldn’t allow her to simply skip the meal altogether. She’d had a taxing day, and he understood her need to be left more or less alone, but she needed to keep up her strength; and he wanted to speak with her, even if they only spoke about simple things.

“My lady?” He waited for her to respond, glancing around himself for lack of better things to do.

“Come on in, Darlin’.” He did as she bade him to, pushing aside the canvas. She sat cross legged upon her pallet, marking her place in the dense tome she was reading. “What brings you?”

“Your supper… and just… you. I wanted to see you.” he said. She hummed, a sad smile creeping onto her face.

“I appreciate it. You’re probably one of the only ones after today. I showed an ugly side of myself. I’m sorry about that.”

“You needn’t apologize to me. I realize that you did what you had to. It was a difficult decision, but one I would have made as well.” She seemed to take comfort in his words, even if only a little.

“We were playing a rigged game. We were going to lose something, regardless of what we did. I just hope everyone else understands that.” She took the bowl from him and waited for him to sit, worrying her lip as he settled in. “Speaking of, how’s your back, Darlin’?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing that won’t heal on its own. I imagine it’s simply bruised,” he said, rolling his shoulders to test his theory.

“Can I see? I just want to make sure.”

Zelgius hesitated, fear shooting through him. He couldn’t show her. If he showed her, she would see the very thing he wanted to hide from her. He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t sure he would ever be ready. She would see it and ask questions. He would have to explain to her that he was an affront to nature, an abomination that was unworthy of her attention. She would see him for what he was and abandon this… whatever this was between them. He wasn’t ready for it to end. Not yet.

“I… I assure you, there’s nothing you need concern yourself over.” His voice was taut, his anxiety getting the better of him. Evelyn noticed his change in mood, her brows pinching together in the middle.

“Are you okay?” She asked. He nodded, but he could see that she wasn’t thoroughly convinced. “Okay… we’ll leave that alone for now. Breathe, Zel. I’m not going to force you to do anything, but if there’s something seriously wrong, promise me you’ll go to the healer, okay?”

“Of course… thank you.” They fell silent then, the tenseness of the situation draining away as she began to eat. His fear subsided, the knot in his chest loosening. She hadn’t gotten angry with him for refusing her, nor did she seem particularly vexed by his sudden anxiousness. Perturbed, perhaps; but he couldn’t say he blamed her. It probably did seem a bit strange that such a simple request would upset him so greatly.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, My Lady.” He watched as she mulled over her question, studying her spoon as though it held the answers she sought.

“If I were to do something that bothered you, you’d tell me, right? You wouldn’t just suck it up because you thought you had to?”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” he murmured. She sighed and reached out, trailing her thumb across his cheek.

“Does it bug you when I touch you?” Of all things, _that_ was her concern? She worried that her touch bothered him? Had he ever given her the impression that he didn’t fully enjoy it?

“Not at all. I… perhaps I would have been bothered by it when I was younger, but now… I don’t mind it.” _I like it. I need it._

“Do you promise to tell me if I ever cross a line?” Where was all this coming from? Why was she so concerned about this? “Please? I want to make sure you feel comfortable and respected. It’s important to me.” His comfort was important? “You’re important to me.”

“My lady… I…” he paused to take a breath, hoping it would help steady his nerves. “I promise. Will you do the same? I… you are important to me, as well.” She giggled, her cheeks taking on a charming pink hue as she returned to her meal.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll know. I know you ain’t a mind reader, Darlin’, I won’t make you guess.” The mood became somber once more as she finished her supper and sipped on the water he’d brought her. “Can I ask you for a little favor?”

“Certainly.”

“Will you… stay until I fall asleep? Lissa wants me to take a sedative before bed tonight to try and help with the stress, but I don’t think it’d be such a good idea under our current circumstances,” she said. “I’ll have better luck going to sleep if you’re here with me.”

“I would be happy to.” He would be more than happy to simply stay with her all night, but she hadn’t offered. He would only do so when it was offered to him.

“Thanks, Darlin’. I appreciate it.” She stood and padded her way to her pack, pulling a hairbrush from its depths. Her hair was far less curly than he’d first thought, though he still loved the way it looked. It was soft and nearly irresistible. He understood now why she was so keen on touching his all the time. He watched as she prepared for bed, finding her nightly ritual almost calming.

She rinsed her mouth of residual paste and came towards him, crawling under the blankets and tugging on his arm in one swift motion. He did as she asked and reclined back, smiling to himself as she curled against his side.

“Goodnight, Zel. Thanks again.” She pushed herself up to peer down at him, worrying her lip briefly before leaning in, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek.

“Goodnight…” He rolled away and reached out to turn off the lamp, casting them in darkness. He only hoped that they both got to sleep through the night.


	10. Upheaval

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelgius wakes in Evelyn's tent and finds himself warring with his desires and what he thinks he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Compared to last chapter, this one is nice and short. I get the feeling that no one particularly enjoyed chapter nine, so if there's something I can do to improve it, please let me know. 
> 
> The song Evelyn sings for him is 'A Case of You' by Joni Mitchell.

He woke with a start, disoriented and surprised as he felt something upon him. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but it was immediately apparent to him where he was. Evelyn’s weight upon his chest and stomach had been what had roused him, but he couldn’t see how he would extract himself from her grip without disturbing her. She shifted above him, the movement bringing his attention to their exact position and he had to stifle a groan as a surge of heat swept through him. This was the second time he’d found himself between her thighs in such a way, but this felt so much more inappropriate. She was asleep and unaware that she was pressing against his groin in such a way, igniting a need within him that he’d rarely experienced. He wet his lips as he fought down the desire to roll his hips, ashamed of himself for even considering such a thing. 

She deserved so much more than he could ever offer, even this was too much for someone like him. To even be allowed to lay at her feet like a dog was more than he deserved, yet he had the gall to consider such a thing? Just because she took comfort in the safety he provided her didn’t give him any right to enjoy such things. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t crave her affection, her touch, and certainly not her body. When had he allowed himself to cease only being a weapon and become a man? When had he become a man that loved, that allowed himself to be touched and kissed? Should he not be disgusted by the cloying feeling of her warmth seeping into him? Should he not pull away when her hand pressed against his back, too close to the thing that marked him as subhuman and filthy? What had changed?

He felt nothing but warmth and happiness when she touched him, nothing but desire as he felt the press of her body, nothing but pride when he made her laugh. _ Why _ ? What did this mean? Had he been wrong all along? Was it truly not wrong for him to feel this way? Surely not, surely he was doing something terrible, something that he was never meant to do. Surely he would be punished when she discovered what he was, what he’d done, what he’d been; surely she--

His thoughts ground to a halt as he felt her hand move, her cold fingers finding their way under his tunic in search of warmth. His breath hitched as her hand slipped between them, coming to rest on his chest, her touch on his bare skin almost too much for him to stand. He remained still as she continued to sleep, her hand warming, her weight still pressing down on his groin. His body was beginning to awaken, she would notice if he allowed this to continue, and he was in no position to explain himself; not when he simply allowed this to happen. How did he wake her? He didn’t trust himself to touch her for fear that the feeling of her beneath his hands would be enough to shatter his resistance altogether. Could he muster the words to wake her? Would his voice work? He grit his teeth as she squirmed against him, seemingly becoming restless for one reason or another. He would be unable to hide his reaction at this point, she would most certainly feel it if he didn’t do something soon.

“My lady?” He hissed, his hand pressing against her back instinctively as the first jolt of genuine pleasure shot through him. Panicking and with little other recourse, he rolled onto his side, dumping her onto the pillow in a heap. She yelped, startled awake by her sudden change of position. 

“Wh-what the  _ actual fuck _ ?!” She fought her way out of the blankets, sitting up in a rush. 

“I… forgive me, My Lady… I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice barely sounded like his own. It was quiet and husky, and certainly sounded as aroused as he felt. It was embarrassing how easy it was for him to become excited. 

“Zel?” She sounded surprised, but far calmer now that she had a better grasp on the situation. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“I… fell asleep. I’m sorry, I promise I’m not usually so bold.” He would have never allowed himself to fall asleep at his master’s bedside, but he was comfortable with her in a way he’d never been with anyone else. She giggled and flopped back down beside him, rolling onto her side to face him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Darlin’. It was a rough day yesterday and… I don’t mind you sleeping here. You’re always welcome.” She sighed and scooted closer, prompting him to shift his hips back in order to keep her unaware. She’d change her tune quickly if she knew. “What time is it, you think?”

“Not time for you to rise. You’ve a few hours yet… I’ll take my leave. I don’t wish to impose upon you nor be seen come sunrise.” He was startled by her quick lunge, her arms linking around his neck as she pulled him back down. 

“Nooooooo,” her tone was almost whiny as she nuzzled against his jaw, her lips nearly brushing his ear as she moved closer to speak, “stay. Please?” 

He was torn. On the one hand, he knew it was for the best if he denied her and left; his current state and the sheer number of people in camp were reason enough to take his leave, but… he  _ wanted _ to stay. He wanted to hold her and make her happy, and that was a problem all on its own. He shouldn’t want these things because he wasn’t worthy of having them. Her happiness should never have anything to do with him, he should just be satisfied in her praise when he followed her orders and killed her enemies. Why did he want to wake here every day? Why did he want to kiss her? What made him think he had the right to want this? Why did the idea of walking with her, hand in hand give him such joy? He held his breath as she nestled close, her hand toying with the hair at his nape as she nuzzled against his neck.

Her nearness was painful and comforting in equal measure. His stomach twisted and his groin ached, but there was a kind of bliss in it. Even knowing it was wrong didn’t stop him from smiling as she hummed a quiet tune against his skin. He sighed in defeat, finally relaxing under her gentle persuasion. His love for her won out again, and the consequences of his weakness were a problem for later.

“What are you humming?” He asked, allowing his arm to rest on her waist. He was beginning to feel better, the ache dulling as the calm surrounding him took hold. 

“Oh, it’s just an old song mama used to play all the time. I… could sing it for you. It might help you sleep.” 

“I’d like that…” Evelyn shifted, pulling him with her until he found his head cradled on her chest. His eyelids drooped as she began to sing, pleasantly surprised by the warm, smoky quality of her voice. 

“ _ Just before our love got lost you said that I am as constant as the northern star, and I said ‘constantly in the darkness? Where’s that at? If you want me I’ll be in the bar’…” _

He wasn’t sure that it was necessarily going to help him sleep, he was simply too enraptured by her. Her hand stroked his hair and cheek as she sang, her touch gentle. He tucked his face against her bosom as his eyes stung. She was too good to him, he’d never done anything to deserve this and yet she gave it without question. Would she still accept him so readily if he shared himself in his entirety? Would she accept his ugliness, his shame?

“... _ You’re in my blood like holy wine, you taste so bitter and so sweet; I could drink a case of you darlin’ and still I would be on my feet, I would still be on my feet _ .”

Her voice brought to mind afternoons spent indoors by the fire, watching as rain hammered on the windows, safe and warm with a full belly. It was a simple pleasure that he’d been denied for much of his life, one that he had never thought he’d know; but now that he did, he never wanted to be without it. He didn’t care that she wasn’t a trained songstress like Azura, he would choose to listen to her instead any time. Would she allow him to do this again? Was this something he could have for himself?

“ _ I met a woman, she had a mouth like yours, she knew your life; she knew your devils and your deeds and she said ‘go to him, stay with him if you can; but be prepared to bleed…”  _

When the time came, would she allow him to go with her? There was nothing for him anywhere if she weren’t there. He would simply go through life incomplete, like he had been for so long. How could he go back to the way things were after her? He adored her completely, he longed to know her in the most intimate ways a man could know a woman. He wanted to know her joy, her pain, her anger and sorrow. He wanted to commit it all to his memory. He wanted to be the reason she smiled. 

“How was that, Darlin’?”

“Wonderful… thank you. I…” he laughed awkwardly, the words he truly wished to say lodged somewhere within his throat. He wanted to tell her how he felt in that moment, but it just didn’t feel like he could. How could he when he’d been and done so many terrible things? How could he allow himself to drag her down into the gutter with him? Didn’t she deserve better? When had he become such a selfish man? “You sing beautifully.”

“Well, thank you Darlin’. I’m better when I’m not trying to be quiet.” Silence fell over them as her thigh nestled between his legs, bringing his attention back to his problem. It was much better than it had been, but she no doubt noticed it: still half hard and quickly regaining interest with the slight pressure she’d put upon it. He held his breath, waiting for her outrage and disgust, but instead she moved closer, shifting so that she was now pressed against his chest, her face cradled in the crook of his neck. She seemed to like that spot; almost as much as he liked having her there. He took a shuddering breath as she trailed her hand up his arm, her touch curious. “When’s your birthday, Darlin’?”

“I…?” Why would she want to know? Why did it matter? “I was born on the day of the winter Solstice.” He didn’t know why she wanted that information, but… if she asked it of him, he would give it. He knew hers, after all.

“In my world, that would be December 21,” she giggles, the hand on his bicep moving to his chest, fingers pressing against him, “is there anything you’d like?” Confusion swirled through him. What kind of question was that?

“What do you mean?” There were many things he wanted, and all of them were things only she could give; but he was altogether unworthy of them.

“Well, where I come from it’s a custom to give people you care about gifts on their birthday, sort of as a way to say ‘thanks for being here,’ so… is there anything you’d like?” His mind went blank, anything and everything leaving him at once as the gravity of what she’d said came to rest solidly on his chest. This was bad. He’d let this go too far. He should have never let this happen. He needed to protect her from himself.

“N-no… just knowing you’re pleased with my performance is enough. You needn’t waste time nor money on me, My Lady.” 

“You sure? Why don’t you sleep on it Darlin’, we have time.” No. No, his mind was made up. This ended now or else he would hurt her. He only ever hurt those that got close. He was a disaster waiting to happen, and he wouldn’t drag her into it. His selfishness had already entangled them enough that it would be painful to undo what he’d done, but it was necessary. It was best for her… so why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he speaking these words? Why was he still laying there, basking in the warmth of her touch, greedily drinking in her scent and the soft press of her breasts against his chest? Why was he so damn awful? “You okay? You’re awful tense.”

“I…” he sighed, the sound forlorn and almost melodramatic. He wanted to try something. “May I ask a favor of you?”

“You know you can.” She always said that. She was too good to him and yet he only ever took. What did he give her in return? Nothing. He was worthless and selfish.

“Will you… touch me? My back, I mean.” It sounded odd to say it aloud, but he needed to confirm his suspicions. She’d pressed herself against his back the night before and he’d felt nothing but comfort. If anyone had done so only six months ago, he would have panicked and lashed out. She slid her fingers up his spine, her touch light. His back arched, his head tipping back to expose his throat. He was grateful the lamp was doused. Such a reaction was shameful. 

“Like that?” He took a moment to compose himself, blinking rapidly in the darkness.

“U-under the shirt, please. I… need to test something.” She hesitated briefly, her fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt, brushing gently against his skin as she waited for him to speak. He shuddered at her touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Is there anywhere particular you need me to touch?” Her voice was soft, only barely above a whisper.

“Just beneath my left shoulder blade.” She slid her hand further up, her touch sending jolts through him. He was so confused. Why wasn’t he afraid? Why didn’t this bother him?  _ Why did it feel so good _ ? In spite of himself, he curled around her, his own hand finding its way into her hair as she continued to stroke his back. 

“Do you need me to stop?” He hadn’t realized he was shaking until she’d asked. His whole body felt alight, every nerve tingling in anticipation of something, anything. A soft whine broke through his control as she trailed her nails over his skin. It was too much and not enough and everything he’d never realized he needed.

“No… please don’t. Not yet. I… I’m sorry… I know this must be strange for you.” Surely she thought this odd. Why should a simple touch make him act in such a way? She deserved to know why, he needed to tell her. She needed to understand why this was significant. “Evelyn, I… I want to tell you something.”

“I’m all ears.” Her hand stilled, pressing directly over his brand, her warmth soaking into his skin. His heart hammered against his ribs, his voice dying in his throat. He couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her. He was a selfish coward that didn’t want to be thrown away once she knew. He knew she would, because it was all he could expect. Why would anyone want something like him? “Zel? You okay?”

“I... I  _ can’t _ . I’m so sorry…” His shoulders shook, his throat ached, his heart squeezed. She’d leave. She’d cast him aside like a broken toy. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” He buried his face against her, a sob tearing its way up from his chest, the sound pitiful as it filled the spaces between them. “I’m such a selfish wretch.”

“Shhhh. Now don’t start that. Come here, baby.” Once again, he found his head cradled against her bosom, her thumb busy rubbing soothing circles against the back of his neck. “Slow down, Darlin’. You don't need to force yourself to show or tell me anything. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Take your time, these things don't happen overnight.” She didn't understand, how could she when he failed to be honest with her? She didn't understand that he'd failed to do something necessary for this to continue. This would be the last night he allowed himself to spend with her. It had to be. If he didn't stop himself now, he would eventually have to watch her fall to ruin. She would wither and die as he remained as he was… yes… wasn’t that how things always went?  _ Don’t you remember her? _ Of course he did. Her name was long gone, thirty years down the well of his memories, but the way she smiled and laughed, her long braid of… copper hair? No. She didn’t have red hair… did She? “Zelgius?”

“W-what?” The sound of her voice shook him from his thoughts, his heart clenching as he felt her lips press against his cheek. 

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’ll be here to watch over you, I promise.” He shook his head, pulling away from her.

“I can’t. I’m… I think I’m going to take a bath. Excuse me, My Lady.” Evelyn said nothing as he hauled himself to his feet, though she was reluctant to let go of his hand. He needed to leave. If he stayed any longer, he would lose his will to sever the ties binding them. Her heart was not his, he couldn’t give her what she deserved nor what she needed. 

“Zelgius?” He stopped as he heard her voice, the sound like a gentle caress. His knees wobbled as his resolve faltered.  _ Get back in bed. Hold her. Kiss her.  _

“Yes, My Lady?” He heard the rustling of her blankets, but didn’t dare turn around. The sight of her in her thin nightgown, mussed hair and the messy bedding pooling around her pale legs would be the end of him. 

“You don’t have to do anything alone, as long as I don’t either. Don’t forget that.” In spite of his better judgement, he turned back to peer into the dimness at her. The light of the moon was just enough to see her by and it took all his strength not to do what the less disciplined part of him wished. She was perfect. He wanted to see her better… he’d never seen her under the moonlight before. 

“My Lady…” he took a breath and steeled himself, squaring his shoulders.  _ Enough _ . “Thank you.”  _ Goodbye. _

***

Nifl’s air was almost painfully cold now that his hair was wet, the sting against his ears and forehead reminded him of Navassa and those cold mornings before a hunt. His stomach turned at the thought. Those days were home to some of his most terrible sins and his loneliest days. He’d spared Evelyn trouble. She deserved better.  _ So why did his heart hurt so much _ ? Why did he want to drown himself in cheap ale and wander endlessly until he forgot her? 

He hurried his way through the rows of tents, halting as he realized he was going towards her tent instead of his own. It seemed his cock wasn’t the only traitor that night. His feet and heart were in on it as well. He felt as though he were being torn in two and he could only hold on helplessly as his desires warred violently with his sense. He had to make a choice. He couldn’t stand there forever. He grit his teeth and forced himself to turn around, making his way back down the row. He wouldn’t sleep; he knew this, but he could perhaps beat himself into submission. He would do whatever he had to, whatever it took to ensure that he wouldn’t crawl back to her. He’d resolved to leave her and to ensure that she would be safe from him. He would do anything to ensure that she was.

He shivered as he pushed his way into his tent, his loneliness crashing down on him. There was no soft laughter, no drawling voice, no smoky soprano, no ginger hair. His tent smelled of him alone: leather, steel and the metallic tang of blood. She’d claimed to like the way he smelled, but he couldn’t see how. To his nose, he smelled of death and the tools used to deal it. His eyes traveled over the space, landing on the hollow eyes of his helm. To think he’d considered requesting a different set.  **That** was who and what he was. That set of armor was all anyone should have known. Why did Yune have to intervene? Why didn’t she just let him die as he was meant to? In only a few more minutes, he would have been gone, left to rot in that place, his armor all that was left after the rats made off with flesh and bones. It would have been a fitting end for trash like him.

He felt his legs grow unsteady and allowed himself to sink to the ground, curling in on himself as the ache in his chest overcame him. What had he been thinking? Had he been thinking at all? He knew it would end up like this, but he’d done it anyway. Every touch of her hand and press of her body had been a powerful drug and he’d quickly become addicted to her. His fingers curled cruelly into his hair, a few strands ripping loose from his scalp as he attempted to drag himself back to reality. He wanted to hurt himself so badly. He wanted to cut, bruise and destroy himself so that none would ever look upon him with kindness or interest again. He wanted to be as ugly outside as he was inside. He bit down on his lip, the taste of his blood spurring him onward. He was too useful in battle to die alone here, but he could hurt himself in other ways. He would make himself pay for the trouble he’d caused her, and everyone else. He would punish himself for the time he’d wasted and the people he’d tainted just by being among them. He’d make it up to them. He had to.

***

He was surprised to find himself laying on the ground, dried blood crusted on his lips, fingers raw from his chewing. His head ached and his throat was parched, but at least his mind was clearer. Things didn’t seem as dire while the sun was shining and he could hear people laughing. He took a steadying breath and picked a stray bit of straw from his hair, forcing himself to his feet, swaying slightly on the spot. He needed to wash up and get ready for the day before someone became suspicious of his absence. 

He grimaced at his appearance in the small mirror next to his washbasin. He looked about as awful as he felt; the dark circles under his eyes and his bruised, swollen lip would most certainly draw attention to him, but donning his helm outside of battle would make things even worse. He needed to maintain a balance so that no one became worried unnecessarily while he mulled everything over. He patted his face and hands dry, his top lip curling in disgust as the water turned a rusty color. Pain he didn’t mind, death he didn’t fear, but seeing his own blood disgusted him. Even if he chose to let himself have what he wanted, they could never have children. Even if  _ their _ child didn’t bear a brand, a child sometime down the line  _ would _ and knowing that they would face it alone with no explanation made him sick. Even if Evelyn’s world wouldn’t persecute them, he still couldn’t stand the thought of it.

He shook his head as he buckled the final piece of armor into place, the familiar weight of it calming him. No one could touch him. No one would see. Everything would be okay. He had time to figure things out.  _ Just breathe.  _ With a final glance down into the mirror, he shrugged helplessly and forced himself outside. There was nothing he could do about how he looked. He’d just have to lie about it when people asked him, though most would likely be too polite to bring it up.  _ Pretend nothing is wrong, and eventually nothing will be. _

***

The camp was bustling with energy, though it was a nervous kind. Grim expressions were everywhere as people packed up essentials and doused the fires. They’d be moving very shortly, just after they’d eaten if he had to guess. Perhaps they would have a short meeting, but it was rather imperative that they move quickly. They were still too close to Forsvollr and the  Múspell army for anyone’s liking. Just because things were calm right now didn’t mean they couldn’t become dangerous at any moment.

He made his way to the mess tent, nodding his greetings to everyone that passed. He kept his gaze ahead, unwilling to invite conversation. He just wanted to eat his breakfast and ensure that his things were loaded. He would continue to play his part, he wouldn’t make Evelyn's work more difficult… if anything, now that he wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted by his own selfish desires, he would be more useful to her. He would be able to do so much more if he weren’t worried about the next time he would be blessed with her affection. It was for the best. He’d do this for her.

He grew still as he heard her voice up ahead, the sound of it a siren’s song, beckoning him back into her arms, away from his foolish attempts to resist her. It would be so easy just to abandon it all and offer himself up, but he needed to think. He needed to wait. He needed to show her the truth so that she could move on without him. It would hurt her, but she would be okay. She was strong enough that something like him could never do permanent damage.

“General Zelgius?” He froze at the sound of his name, the voice familiar, but only vaguely. Hers was a voice he’d only heard a few times. He turned to look over his shoulder, finding himself meeting a pair of determined blue eyes. Why was she approaching him? 

“What can I do for you, young miss?” Ike’s sister’s gaze hardened as she crossed her arms, a deep frown marring her usually cheerful expression.

“You may have everyone else fooled, but not us. We all know you haven’t changed, people don’t change that easily. You’re still the same man you were that night.” He felt as though she’d well and truly gutted him. His breath caught, lungs burning as he processed her words. She was right, of course. Wasn’t that something he already knew? Nothing had changed.

“I know…” his voice was weak, so quiet a breeze could drown it out. He’d wronged Gawain’s children a second time by trying to be someone he wasn’t. His sins were simply too great, he could never absolve himself of them.  _ There are no second chances. _

“Then stop running from what you did and own it.” Right again. He’d been avoiding it, avoiding  _ them _ . He’d hoped that if he smiled, laughed and simply behaved like the person he wanted to be, everyone would simply forget, that  _ he’d _ forget. He swallowed thickly and stared at the ground. He didn’t deserve to look at anyone, let alone her. Wasn’t that what his mother always said?  _ Avert your eyes, shut up and thank us for letting you live. _ “Don’t you have anything to say?” Mist’s voice was taut, he didn’t have to look at her to know that she was close to tears; though whether they were from anger or grief, he couldn’t tell.

“There’s nothing I can say.” What did she want? An apology? ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t bring her father back, nor would it make her feel better. He would say it if she asked, but surely she knew how useless those words would be.

“Mist!” Ike’s voice pulled their attention away from their conversation. His head snapped up in spite of himself, just in time to see the boy put himself between them, shielding his sister from him. He understood the reflex to protect, though it was pointless here. He wouldn’t harm either of them, nor anyone else within the camp. He didn’t bother maintaining eye contact, instead lowering his head which seemed to surprise them both. “Go on to the mess. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” 

He waited in silence while Ike seemed to be gathering his thoughts. This really wasn’t the place for this kind of talk. Perhaps Mist was more impulsive due to her youth, but surely Ike wouldn’t attempt a soul baring conversation in the middle of camp. 

“Sorry about her.” Zelgius shook his head, stepping aside so that Ike could more easily move by him.

“Don’t be. She merely said what needed saying. You should eat.”

“So should you.” Ike’s tone was… oddly gentle. He didn’t sound friendly, necessarily, but there was no antagonism. It was merely a statement, but far kinder than he deserved.

“I shall. Later. Once everyone is finished.” He would eat the scraps, just as he did as a child. Ike lingered a moment longer before sighing heavily and striding away. He waited until he knew he was alone before looking over his shoulder. Most of his comrades had gone into the tent for their meals. No one would notice if he were to slip away. It would be better if he stayed out of the way and only interacted when necessary. He would feel better, and so would everyone else. With a heavy heart, he picked his way back towards the refuge of his tent, ignoring the feeling of eyes upon him. He didn’t want to talk, he only wanted to be useful. Anything more than that was more than he could ever deserve.

***

“General Zelgius?” His head jerked up as he heard his name, eyes bleary with sleep. Nino’s voice was close… closer than he would expect. She stood nearby, a tray with a still steaming plate of food and a cup of Jakob’s freshly brewed coffee in her hand. “I brought you breakfast… everyone was worried when you didn’t come to eat, so Evelyn made you a plate.” He looked down at the meal as the girl placed it in front of him, his stomach growling quietly. Just as they always were, the eggs were cooked to perfection and the thick slab of venison smelled delightful. “Evelyn’s on kitchen duty today, she wants to know what you want for supper.” 

“What I want?” What he wanted didn’t matter… did it?

“Mhm! She said comfort food can help when you’re feeling bad… so…?” Zelgius sighed, his heart aching. What  _ did _ he want? 

“...Halászlé. It’s… a fish soup.” If there was one thing he thought of when he wanted something warm, filling, and comforting, that was it. It was easily made, and rivers in the area were plentiful, which likely meant plentiful fish. 

“That sounds good! What goes in it?”

“Vegetables, fish, and paprika. There’s very little to it.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out his field journal, scribbling the recipe on a scrap piece of paper. Nino took the paper in hand, mouthing the words as she read them. In spite of himself, he smiled, proud of how far she’d come.

“Okay! I’ll get this to her so she can go over it. Do you need anything, General?” He shook his head, cutting into his eggs. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure… you’ve got more important things to do right now than worry about me… I’m… just tired is all. It will pass.” And it would. He knew it would. These feelings weren’t permanent, but that didn’t make him feel any less miserable in the moment. Nino worried her lip, her blue eyes scrutinizing him before she smiled. 

“Okay, I’ll give you a little space… but I’m here whenever you need me. I love you!” She gave his neck a quick hug before trotting away, smiling back at him one more time before departing. 

Zelgius took a shuddering breath, his eyes stinging as tears came unbidden to his eyes. He covered his face, unable to stop himself now that he’d started. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted everyone with him, he wanted Nino to come back, he wanted Evelyn to wipe the tears away. Why was everything so hard? Why couldn’t he just pick one? Did he want to cut everyone out of his life, or did he want them to stay? Did he want to hurt, or did he want to heal? Confusion weighed heavily on him, his head swimming as he tried to sort through his conflicting feelings. He shook his head, wiping at his eyes. He needed to eat. They would be moving on soon and he needed his strength for what would come. He had no time for tears.

 


	11. A Noble Endeavor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Gunnthrá with them, Evelyn and the others finally have a real plan, but stress and worry make things harder than they should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came to me a lot faster than they have been lately. I'm not sure if I was just feeling a little uninspired because of the change of the seasons or if I just really needed some angst in my life, but I'm not gonna complain, because we're starting to get to that really good shit now. 
> 
> I hope you guys like pain, because we're gonna all be in pain pretty soon.

To say she was worried would be a gross understatement. No, no she’d passed ‘worried’ days ago, back when he was only skittish and failing to eat with everyone else; she was nothing short of distraught now. She wanted to hold him down and wrestle the truth out of him, but she knew doing that would only make things worse. Zelgius needed her to take things slow. She didn’t know what he’d been through, not really; she had vague ideas, a dim picture of his trauma, but she  **could** without a doubt, say that he was traumatized. She hoped he’d tell her in time, that he would share his pain with her and let her at least  _ try _ to help him. She loved him. She could admit it to herself now… she could tell him, too, if she thought he was in the right place, but she could see that those words would do more harm than good right now. Right now, he needed time. He needed to see that he wasn’t alone. He needed to be  **shown** , not told.

She cursed the war and how much time it stole from her. She wanted to spend all afternoon with him, doing anything he asked of her; anything that would lighten the load and make him feel safe and cared for. She’d made his breakfast almost every day since that morning, and had slipped him extra helpings of fruit when she could. She knew she couldn’t treat him too special, otherwise it would look too much like she was favoring him, and that could engender resentment, but he’d avoided speaking with her for days now so she didn’t have many options. She couldn’t ignore his distress. Not only did she love him, he was also important for morale; and since he’d become so reticent, she’d noticed a decline in the camp’s overall mood. Zelgius didn’t seem to realize it, but he was larger than life and even those that didn’t know him took comfort in his calm, steady presence. 

Of course… she missed him fiercely. His avoidance of her stung terribly and she’d not slept well since that night. She’d become comfortable with his warmth and the sleek, powerful lines of his body that she couldn’t quite get comfortable without feeling it. She missed their quiet conversations as sleep began to creep up on them, and the warm, intoxicating scent of him; she missed waking up next to him. He always looked so thoughtful and comfortable in the mornings, and so handsome with his hair tousled and stubble adorned jaw, his full lips pulled into a content half smile. She hated that peace was always lost throughout the day. His shoulders would bunch, his brow would crumple, his gaze would grow sharp and his voice hard. She liked him relaxed and comfortable and wanted to keep him that way.

Maybe he’d be feeling a little better today. Maybe he’d come eat with the rest of them, maybe he’d sit and read with Nino, maybe he’d smile shyly at her in that way that told her everything was going to be okay. Maybe he’d come back to his rightful place by her side. She doubted it, but she could wish. If there was one thing she’d learned about him, it was that he took his time when it came to processing his own emotions and their effects on everyone else; but she didn’t mind. She couldn't claim to be much better, after all.

“Evelyn?” She turned to find the source of the voice, almost surprised to see Gunnthrá standing there. She’d almost forgotten that they’d actually managed to catch up with her in the bustle of the past several days. She was so used to her only talking  _ at _ her that she found herself unsure what to say.

“Hey there, hon. Is there something I can do for you?” She asked, rising to her feet. It was for the best that she’d been pulled out of her thoughts. There really was too much work to do for her to be thinking about him right now.

“Not particularly, I only wanted to speak with you… properly this time. We’ve not had much time to get to know each other, and well… that seems a bit wrong, all things considered.” Gunnthrá’s tone was light and gentle, the kind of tone that one would take with a skittish horse. 

“Yeah… I agree with you on that one. About that… why did you decide  _ I _ was the best use of something like that? Why not Fjorm?” She didn’t mean to sound ungrateful or dismissive, but it just seemed so odd that a stranger would choose to waste such a useful thing on her.

“Necessity, mostly. I needed to speak with someone on your side, and I had no guarantee that Fjorm was alive, nor that she was with you. I also knew I needed to speak with the wielder of Breidablik, but I couldn’t do so in person at the time. I had little other choice,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. 

“So… you mind telling me what your plan is, now that you’re here?” She’d wanted to know what they were going to do for months now. She’d been floundering in the dark, only barely keeping everyone’s heads above water. It finally felt like things would be going their way again.

“Well… we need to perform the Rite of Frost. We must have power equal to Surtr’s if we’re going to have any hope of defeating him. That is our main goal. We must get to Nifl’s temple and perform it… and very soon. From what I understand, you’ve managed to buy us time, at least where Surtr himself is concerned, but his children are still about.” 

“Is that who was after you that day?” Evelyn asked, fighting down a wince as she remembered the town they’d had to abandon.

“Yes. That was the work of Princess Laevatein, Surtr’s younger daughter. I don’t know either of them personally, but I do know that her elder sister, Laegjarn is currently responsible for keeping order in the conquered parts of Nifl. She is… surprisingly honorable,” Gunnthrá said. Evelyn waved a dismissive hand, uninterested in the minutiae. To her, it didn’t really matter whether they wanted to hurt people or not, they hadn’t hesitated to do so and that was reason enough to defend those she cared about from them.

“Honor is great when people aren’t burning to death in their homes, but right now they’re our enemies and that’s all I need to know about them. Do you have any idea where Laegjarn might be?"

“No, unfortunately. Last I’d heard, she was near the capital, attempting to capture my brother, but with your forces out here, I doubt she’ll remain there for much longer… and I imagine Surtr won’t be distracted for much longer.”

“Yeah, well. Once he figures out it was bullshit and we weren’t even heading out that way, he’s bound to be pretty pissed; so let’s hope that this Rite of Frost business will do the trick.” Evelyn huffed, ruffling her hair. 

“That brings up an interesting point… how did you manage to fool him so effectively? I’ve heard only that you even convinced his own tactician to help you. How did you do that?” Evelyn shifted awkwardly in her seat, remembering that morning a little too clearly for comfort.  She couldn’t tell Gunnthrá the truth… it was just too embarrassing. 

“I’m… uh… real persuasive when I need to be, let’s just leave it at that, hon.” She knew she was blushing, she could feel it. Gunnthrá’s expression went from surprised to impressed rather quickly for a princess. Maybe they’d get along better than she’d thought.

“My, my. Now that  _ is _ impressive. I commend your creativity.” 

“Don’t encourage me, hon. I get into enough trouble without any prompting.” She grinned in spite of herself, but really she always felt a pang of guilt whenever that got brought up. She wasn’t particularly proud of herself. Gunnthrá chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming in amusement. 

“I can see that.” Her expression sombered then, returning to business. “There is something else we need to do… but it rests with you.”

“And what might that be?” Evelyn asked, watching Gunnthrá’s face carefully. 

“Well… Breidablik itself is quite important for what is to come. It’s a weapon much like all the others, after all. Right now, it’s not reaching its full potential,” Gunnthrá said, her expression carefully neutral. 

“Is that my fault, or…”   


“No, it’s not your fault… it’s just the way of things at the time. We can fix it, but it’s… really only something you can do. Once you reach your full potential, so too will Breidablik.” Gunnthrá leaned back in her seat, a soft smile spreading across her face. 

“I…? I’m not really sure what you’re getting at, but I guess it’ll make sense eventually, huh?”

“Most likely. I’m sure you’ve already noticed some changes in yourself.” Now that she mentioned it…

“About that. You seem like the right person to ask about this, do you mind?” Evelyn asked. Gunnthrá shook her head, her expression still as calm and friendly as before. “There’s… something off about this place. I noticed it when we first got here, but it’s like something’s… I don’t really know how to describe it, but… pulling on me, is the best I can come up with.”

“How so?” 

“It’s… like seeing something from the corner of your eye, and turning around to find it’s already gone. I don’t really know what it’s all about, but… it’s like something wants me to go North,” Evelyn said, allowing herself to pay attention to the obnoxious feeling. It really was unsettling when she actually acknowledged it.

“Then north is where we go. What you’re feeling is important, and you need to seek it out,” Gunnthrá said, nodding her head as though that were the end of the conversation.

“We don’t really have time to get sidetracked. We have to deal with Surtr, don’t we?”

“It’s not being sidetracked if what’s calling to you is going to help us, is it? Besides… you’ve not been feeling well, have you?” Evelyn started at that. How would she know something like that? Had Fjorm mentioned it?

“No, but what does that have to do with anything? I’m fine, it’s just stress.”

“Maybe, or maybe not. It could have nothing at all to do with it, or it might have everything to do with it; regardless, we need to see, don’t you think?” Gunnthrá asked. Evelyn narrowed her eyes, suspicion brewing away in her gut. Why did it feel like she was hiding something? And why would she hide it? Didn’t it make more sense to share all the information she had?

“Well. If we’re going north, then we need to let the others know. We’ve been wandering around with our thumbs in our asses for the past week. Which one should we prioritize? If they’re both important, we have to figure out how we’re going to do both.” 

“We must address Breidablik first. We won’t even be able to enter the temple without it, and in its current state, I’m not sure it would do the job.” Evelyn frowned, her eyebrows arching. She hadn’t mentioned that before… why would Nifl build something that required a relic from a different nation to open  _ their _ temple?

“Seems a little weird to rely on someone else for something so serious, don’t it? Why’d y’all bother building something that needs someone else’s relic to get into it?” Maybe it was rude to ask, but it really did seem a little crazy.

“Breidablik is, like the summoning stones and the temples themselves, a relic left to us by those that came before us. We aren’t the first people to inhabit this world, nor will we be the last. Askr are simply the ones meant to hold it, to keep it safe.” Gunnthrá explained, an almost enthusiastic look in her eyes. “Breidablik is meant to be a… security measure, if you will. The great dragons sealed themselves away, because to have them all awakened at once would bring the world to ruin, and in turn, would bring  **all** worlds to ruin, even yours.”

“So… if you need it to get into Nifl’s temple, how did Surtr get into Múspell's?” Evelyn asked, leaning on her elbows. 

“There are other ways in, and Múspell is the most excitable of the dragons. I’m not surprised he managed to enter without using Breidablik. He likely forced his way in, or perhaps had his court mage overpower the wards. They’re old, a powerful enough mage could likely manage it.”

“So if we have to, we can probably do the same, right?” It was good to have backup plans, just in case.

“We could, if we had to, but there are likely consequences for it. I’d rather do things the way we’re meant to if we can. I feel it’s safer that way,” Gunnthrá said. Evelyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She didn’t like uncertainty, and she absolutely hated how this world seemed to be up to its tits in it. Nothing was predictable or sensible. Magic this, prophecy that. She missed home where it was possible to fully explain everything and god was an intangible thing she could dismiss. “Are you well?”

“I miss my dog.” Gunnthrá seemed to be surprised by her rather mundane answer, but patted her hand affectionately after she recovered. 

“I’m sorry. It must be difficult for you here… this world is probably quite different from yours, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. This world seems almost backwards to me sometimes. Parts of it are stuck in my world’s past, some are actually way more advanced. Nothing makes sense to me half the time, I just go along with whatever everyone else is doing because it seems like the only way to get things done. Do you know how weird it is to be the only one that knows about electric lighting? How do y’all not burn your houses down more often? Y’all can figure out how to have a toilet that works more or less like the ones I’m used to, but not electricity? What the  _ fuck _ ?” Evelyn stopped abruptly, realizing that she was ranting about things that poor Gunnthrá wouldn’t understand nor had control over. “Sorry. It’s just frustrating sometimes.”

“No, no it’s fine. I understand. What’s your dog’s name, Evelyn?” 

“Boone. He’s still pretty young, I got him when I moved.” It was hard to believe that she’d lived in Portland for almost two years now. It was hard to believe that she’d had to spend so long tending a bar and singing in coffee shops rather than making real money.  _ How’s that geology degree treating you, Evelyn?  _

“Boone. I’ve never had a dog… I kept a snowshoe hare when I was younger, and of course there are the reindeer, but those aren’t exactly pets.” Gunnthrá chuckled, her smile turning a little sad.

“Boone is the first dog that was actually mine, and really meant to be a pet. The dog I grew up with was a work dog, meant for herding. Had to shoot him not too long ago, he got to the point where he couldn’t walk or eat anymore. Mama couldn’t bring herself to do it, so of course, just like everything else mama can’t bring herself to do, it fell to me.” Evelyn shrugged, once again ashamed of how bitter she sounded. She had to stop doing that; people would assume she hated her family if she kept talking that way.

“You must be the eldest.” There was an understanding in Gunnthrá’s voice and a wry twist to her lips. “You sound like my brother.”

“...yeah. I’m the oldest.” It used to drive Everett crazy. He’d hated that she’d been born before him, but he’d hated it even more when she used that fact to tease him.

“I’m sorry… did I say something wrong?”

“Wha--? No. No, it’s fine. I just… miss them. That’s all.” She needed a drink. Even a glass of the cheap wine they used for cooking would do. This conversation was getting too personal and uncomfortable. At least a glass of wine would make it more bearable. It was too early though… and really, the last thing she wanted was to get into the provisions. Who knew when they’d get a chance to restock. There weren’t many large cities in the area, and it wasn’t particularly safe to do so. They’d need to go hunting again soon. “Speaking of your brother… he still around, or…?”

“As far as I know, Hríd is still alive. He’s… not an easy one to pin down. I’ve no idea what he’s up to… but I do think he’s working on something important himself,” Gunnthrá said. She looked worried, but that was more than understandable. “It’s our youngest sister I’m concerned for… Ylgr is so young, and not particularly skilled at fighting yet. I worry for her.”

“I’m sorry. It must be hard.” Evelyn allowed her hand to rest against Gunnthrá’s for a moment, squeezing her fingers gently before pulling back. They felt cold to the touch.

“Yes… but… the best I can do for them both is play my role. We will do what we can and hopefully… hopefully that will be enough to bring Surtr down. If we can take him out of the equation, then my family may once again be safe.” Gunnthrá’s expression hardened then, her gaze determined. “No matter what happens, I know that we will succeed.”

“Let’s hope so, honey,” Evelyn said, rising to her feet. “We should probably get moving soon. The animals have rested long enough. I’ll let the others know and we’ll get going.” 

***

They’d known it would be easier for them to be found once they had an explicit destination in mind. She just hadn’t expected to brush up against enemy forces again so quickly. Thankfully, it was a small force, even if the one leading it was a little trickier to deal with. They were lucky their scouts had seen them first. It gave them a chance to prepare a little.

“This should be the last time we have to fight her… she ought to be free from her contract after this time,” Evelyn said, watching as Zelgius checked his equipment, waiting to see what he would do or say.

“I’m glad to hear it, My Lady.” His tone was professional and almost forced. She watched as he straightened, his shoulders drawn up close, looking almost like a cat that didn’t want to be touched. 

“You okay, Darlin’?” He flinched at that. It was almost like hearing her voice hurt. She took a breath and held it, begging herself to stay calm. Now wasn’t a good time to get emotional.

“Of course, My Lady. I’m ready for my orders,” he said. She frowned slightly, trying to read his expression, but there was nothing for her to see, and they didn’t have time to talk about it now. Their guests would see them soon.

“Well, fall in Darlin’. You know what you need to do.” 

“Please refrain from calling me that. My name or title is sufficient.” Zelgius moved around her, fitting his helm over his head. Evelyn stayed where she was for a moment longer, her chest tight. Had he always hated it, and just never said anything? Had he hated everything and just put up with it because he thought he had to? She shook her head, trying to clear her mind.  _ Now’s not the time. _ If he wanted his space, he could have it. She’d never been one to beg a man to stay and she wasn’t going to start now.

“Sure thing,  _ General. _ ” It hurt to say it. It felt wrong, given the way she felt for him, but they just didn’t have the time to talk about it, and it didn’t sound like he was in a talking mood.  _ Later. _

***

Things became chaotic quickly. They’d had no time to actually plan or prepare, Evelyn and the other tacticians found themselves scrambling to adapt and issue orders. She watched from her place on the backlines, her eyes seeking the hulking form of Zelgius in the distance every time she could. She didn’t want to, she knew there were others that needed her attention, but she was just so worried. She couldn’t get him out of her mind, and it was hurting her performance.  _ Damn him. _

“Evelyn?!” Her head swiveled towards the voice, finding that their right flank was close to falling apart. Everyone was tired, things were disorganized, they needed to do something.  _ What do I do? What… what? _ Why was she having so much trouble? Usually she could come up with something, but she had no idea what they needed. She cast a wild glance around, trying to find the answer in the people around her, but there was none. All she had to work with were archers and mages. Beside her, the Black Knight seemed to be watching her, his presence calming her. That’s right… she wasn’t alone, not right now, at least. 

“Take charge. I’ll be fine, just go.” He nodded once and made his way towards the flank, his speed and strength on display almost immediately. She felt herself calm as she saw them regrouping, the formation strengthening as he put his experience to use. As she looked towards the frontline, she felt herself go cold. When had things turned south for them? Reinhardt rode back towards them, his face grim as he pulled Siegbert’s horse along by the reins, the prince slumped weakly in the saddle. He was still alive, at least, but he’d certainly need medical attention. In his wake, she saw Effie helping an injured Arden away from the worst of the danger before stumbling herself. 

“Evelyn this looks… bad,” Robin said, lobbing a spell towards an enemy as they pursued their injured. “Any ideas?” An almost hysterical laugh bubbled past her lips as she shook her head. What was there to do? If they couldn’t power through, they would need to retreat before they had any more casualties. She caught sight of Zelgius in the chaos, his movements still assured and strong, but he couldn’t win this by himself. He needed support just as much as anyone else, and Hector was busy with his own mess. She watched as Zelgius popped from one place to another, his goal clear: he was only interested in ending this fight, and to do that, he needed to close the distance between himself and that girl, but the problem was that their enemy knew that, too.

She watched as he struggled to break through, his fighting becoming more and more frenzied as they closed in around him. Zelgius was more or less isolated, his nearest companion too far away to help should something happen. She couldn’t let him get hurt again. She couldn’t let something happen to him… she needed to protect him. _ If she could only get to him _ . Panic rose within her as she saw the telltale halo of light appear above the battlefield, its intended target obvious. Zelgius didn’t do well with magic. Magic hurt him.  _ She couldn’t let anyone hurt him. _

It went so quickly she didn’t have time to even comprehend what was happening until she felt the cold steel of his breastplate under her hands, her arms tensing to shove him out of the way. When had she gotten here?  _ How  _ had she gotten here? And now that she  _ was _ here, what was she going to do about it? The light of that girl’s magic was bright, but she was surprised to find that it didn’t hurt her… and even better, the light obscured her movements. She had a few seconds, Zelgius was safe, and she could end this. Without hesitation, she pushed her way through, Breidablik already aimed where she needed it to be. This made more sense. This felt more correct.  _ This was the answer they’d needed. _

She whiffed the first shot, the bolt of magic sending bits of white hair flying in the breeze, but the second one connected with the girl’s leg. She yelped and dropped to her knees, hand flying to her injured thigh. 

“Micaiah! Hold o--” The boy gave a loud yelp, the sound so visceral and raw that Evelyn didn’t even have to look to know Zelgius had been the one to deal with him. Whether he was “dead” or not was debatable and irrelevant. Evelyn skidded to a stop in front of her, Breidablik aimed at her forehead, her finger twitching against the trigger. The girl was young… or at least, she looked it. Something about her eyes was old… kind of like Zelgius’... a wisdom that didn’t match her youthful face. Micaiah raised her hands, palms forward. 

“I… surrender.” That was all she needed to hear. She didn’t have to actually  _ kill _ the girl to break her contract, she just had to force her into submission. Evelyn diverted her attention away, aiming her weapon at a man who had thought to advance upon her. It only took one to make the others near him think twice about getting any closer. Evelyn relaxed as she heard the thundering of hooves and screeching of wyverns behind her. It seemed that taking care of the commander had given them the opening they needed and let the others catch their breath. It wouldn’t be long now, and this would be over.  _ Thank god. _ Her mind went blank as the world went black, Micaiah’s startled cry the last thing she heard before sinking into oblivion.

***

She groaned through clenched teeth as she woke, hands moving to massage her temples. Her head felt like it could pop at any moment, and it was impossible to keep her eyes open for more than a few moments. What happened? Where was she? What time was it?

“You’re awake?” Zelgius’ voice was nearby, somewhere off to her left.

“Don’t speak so loudly, you fool.” Ah. The other one, too. They were both there. 

“Perhaps  _ you _ shouldn’t speak at all.” Oh god… were they about to argue? She wasn’t in the mood for that. “This is  _ your _ fault, after all.”

“ _ My  _ fault? That’s…  _ precious _ .” 

“ **Shut. Up.** ” They fell silent at her command. Speaking was hard and left her feeling nauseous, but she couldn’t stand the sound of them fussing. “What happened?”

“We… were hoping you could tell us, actually,” the voice at the right said, his tone soft now. 

“What on earth were you thinking, My Lady? You could have been killed!” Zelgius’ voice was harsher, almost angry. She didn’t like the tone he was taking with her.

“No idea what happened. I didn’t exactly have time to think about it… and really now… couldn’t I ask  _ you _ the same thing? What were  **you** thinking? Pushing so far ahead with no help? Were you  _ trying _ to get yourself killed?” The pressure in her head lessened a little, letting her finally open her eyes and get her bearings. She was in her tent. She looked to her right and found her guardian sitting on the ground beside her, still mostly in his armor. He looked relieved, even a little proud. She reached out to him, smiling as he took her hand in his. “Could you give us a second, honey? I think he and I need to have some words.”

“Of course. I shall tell the others that you’ve woken. Excuse me.” He squeezed her hand, shooting Zelgius a icy look before leaving. He didn’t bother with his helm, which she found odd.

“Help me sit up, will you?” She asked.

“You should rest.” 

“I’m thirsty. I can’t drink laying down,” she said. She couldn’t get angry right now. They needed to speak calmly. Whatever was going on in his head was responsible for how difficult he was being.  _ Just breathe. _ Gentle hands slid under her head and upper back, carefully pulling her upright. She swayed precariously before steadying herself. She was sore and her head still ached a bit, but she felt fine otherwise. He poured her a cup full of water, handing it to her as he lowered himself back down onto the ground. She studied him as she sipped her drink, trying to read his mood. His expression was placid, almost disturbingly blank, in fact; but she could see something that looked a lot like anxiety in his eyes. Was he afraid she was going to yell at him?

“My Lady… I… apologize. I… must have inconvenienced you. I was careless.” Zelgius stared at his hands, sneaking nervous glances up at her face. “I shall accept any punishment you deem necessary for my misconduct.” 

“I wasn’t inconvenienced, I was  _ scared _ . Whatever happened today happened because I was worried about you, not because I was angry or whatever,” she huffed. This man.  _ This infuriating, beautiful man. _

“Worried?  _ Why _ ?”

“You know why. I already told you not to make me cry, didn’t I?” His expression became pained for a moment before evening out once more, his eyes narrowing as he leaned towards her.

“I didn’t need your protection.”

“I beg to differ. You were in a terrible position and you know it.” Frustration simmered low in her stomach, heat flushing her cheeks.  _ Breathe, Evelyn. Don’t lose your temper. _

“Then you should have left me to it. You should never endanger yourself over me.”

“I’m not going to abandon someone I care about, Zelgius. I don’t do that.” His eyes flashed up to hers, a confusing slurry of emotions swimming in them. “I’m not going to abandon  _ you _ .” 

“As you say.” Was he…  _ testing her _ ? “You shouldn't care about me, I’m no good for you or anyone else.”

“You say that, but I’m pretty happy when you’re around.” This felt dangerous. They were talking about feelings now, and there was a strange look in his eyes. 

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be."

“I’m not. From where I’m sitting, you’re the one being difficult, hon,” she said. Zelgius snorted and hauled himself to his feet, stalking towards the exit.

“Just let me do what’s best. Please?” He turned towards her, his eyes pleading

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit. If you want your space, that’s fine. Take it, but don’t expect me to believe that this is coming from anywhere but whatever dark place you wandered into.” She crossed her arms, lifting her chin in challenge. 

“You don’t understand--”

“And I can’t until you talk to me. I’m here to listen, I  _ want _ to listen; but until you talk I can’t do anything.” They stared at each other for a long few moments, unwilling to look away or back down.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. There’s nothing here. I can’t give you what you want.”

“What do you know about what I want? I don’t even think you know what  _ you _ want. Maybe you should be asking yourself why that is, instead of trying to make me feel like shit for caring about you.” They lapsed into silence again and she watched as he shifted from foot to foot, all nervous energy and confusion.

“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, shoving a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Can’t you see I’m trying to do what’s best for you?” Anger flared within her, hot and vicious.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ try to tell me what’s best for me. You don’t get to decide  _ anything _ for me. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let a man run my life,” she snapped. He looked taken aback by her anger, almost as if he didn’t know she were capable of it. “You can stand there and make up every excuse you want, Zelgius but you can fuck right off with that shit. Don’t lay your hangups on me. At least be honest about one damn thing tonight.” She marched towards him, shoving her finger against his breastplate as she glared up at him. If she weren’t so angry, she’d probably have laughed at how ridiculous she looked, but all she could see was the grimly triumphant look on his face. He had been trying to make her angry, and he’d done it. That only pissed her off more.

“I  _ am _ being honest. I want what’s best for you.”

“Bull.  _ Shit _ . You men are all the damn same, so full of it. You think I can’t tell what you’re doing? Do you think I’m fucking  _ stupid _ ? Do you think, for even a goddamned second that I don’t know that you’re just trying to run because you’re scared?” He took a step back, but she wouldn’t let him get away that easily. He wanted her mad, so she would make him experience it. She stepped around him, blocking his path. If he wanted out, he'd need to either push her out of the way or ask.

“My Lady, I--”

“You know my name, **use** **it**.” He open his mouth and to speak, but closed it with an audible ‘click’ as his teeth clacked together. His jaw clenched, his arms crossing firmly over his chest. He looked defensive and awkward, like he didn't know what to do or say. He wasn't used to being challenged, it seemed.

“ _ Evelyn _ .” His tone told her just how pained and conflicted he was. Her anger dwindled a little, but she wouldn’t back down. He was just too important to her to let him go like this. He deserved better than he knew. “I… I just want to protect you.  _ Please _ .”

“Protect me from  _ what _ ? What are you afraid of? You gonna beat me?”

“No! I would never--” Zelgius shoved his hand through his hair once more, huffing in frustration before reaching out to take her by the arms. His grip was firm, but gentle, his eyes desperate. “I’d never hurt you, not on purpose… but there’s… I’m just…” His voice grew strained, his hands shaking slightly as he tugged her a little closer. “I don’t deserve this. Any of it. I can’t erase what I’ve done, and I don’t want that to hurt you.” Ah, now the truth came out. She’d known before that this had something to do with his past.

“This isn’t about what you think you deserve, Darlin’. You don’t have to earn this… I’m giving it to you because I want to,” Evelyn said, laying a cautious hand against his chest, ignoring the way the cool metal of his breastplate felt under her palm.

“I… I’m so sorry. I can’t do this. Goodnight, My Lady.” Zelgius stepped around her and made a hasty retreat, leaving her more confused and frustrated than she already was. Tears came unbidden to her eyes, her lip quivering pathetically as she took a deep breath. She swore and pressed her fingertips into her eyes, a whimper building in her chest as she began to cry in earnest.

She hated this. She hated that he felt the way he did, she hated that she was crying, she hated that she was mad at him for the hurt she felt. She didn’t want to be angry, but she was. She was angry that he was hurting them both, angry that he was being so stubborn, so cryptic, and so obnoxiously self sacrificing; but more than anything, she was angry with herself. She’d known in the beginning that getting too close to anyone was a mistake, and had known since the moment she’d met him that she needed to mind her distance, and yet she’d fallen in love anyway; actual, real love. She’d certainly not felt this way about the other men she’d ever dated, and never thought she would after Charlie. It was a miracle she could even stand the idea of a man after  _ him _ ; but Zelgius was so different from all the others. He was genuinely sweet and honest. He was a good man. That was what made all this so frustrating. Zelgius; for all his flaws, was still a better man than most she knew.

She sat down, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. She would give him time and space. She’d wait for him to calm down. Whatever was going on with him was clearly coming from a painful, traumatic place; the last thing he needed was for her to give up on him. All of her own pain had made her patient, and she was more than tough enough to withstand this, especially now that she knew  _ why _ he was doing it, even if she had the sense it was more complex than he’d told her. They’d work their way through it together, problem to problem, scar by scar. That’s what loving someone was all about, after all.


	12. Bitter Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rift between Zelgius and Evelyn grows wider and Evelyn finds herself in a bad situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can blame/thank the Book 3 teaser for everything that's going to happen in the next few chapters. 
> 
> Evelyn was recently promoted to Sergeant First Class when she was discharged. She's a little young, but there are dragons and 18 year old generals so screw it.

“Sir Knight?” Zelgius stiffened as he heard her voice, attempting to school his features into a more neutral, less miserable expression. He didn’t need to burden her with his problems, after all. It would be almost as bad as doing so to his Empress.

“Lady Micaiah? How does the day find you?” He’d been surprised when she’d agreed to stay with them, despite the way they had ended her contract. That boy had yet to fully recover, but her injuries were mostly superficial and easily dealt with, save the wound upon her thigh; but unlike him, magic hardly bothered her.  _ Or Evelyn for that matter _ . She was back on her feet the very next day after the healers had done their work.

“I’m well, thank you. Everyone has been very kind, considering how much trouble I gave them.”

“They don’t blame you for that, Maiden. They all caused this army trouble at one time or another,” he said. He was exhausted… too tired to have a lengthy talk, even with her. He’d hardly slept since the other night, Evelyn’s angry words repeating in his mind. It hadn’t even accomplished what he’d hoped… she was angry with him, but defiant, determined to remain where she was, in spite of his warnings. He would need to be firmer next time.

“Are you feeling well, Sir Knight?”

“Just Zelgius is fine,” he murmured, his eyes wandering away when he caught a glimpse of red hair, only to find it was Eliwood bringing a load of firewood to the mess tent. He hated how disappointed he was. Shouldn’t he be glad it wasn’t her? Seeing her always made his heart jump.

“I’m going to take that as a ‘no,’ then. You seem… sad.” Micaiah’s tone was pensive, her gold eyes piercing him with a knowing look.

“Oh? How so?” When had he gotten so bad at hiding his feelings? Did she do  _ that _ to him as well?

“You’re… quiet. More so than usual, almost like you’re not actually here.” She’d always been a perceptive woman, able to more or less accurately assess the emotional state of those around her. He had his theories on this ability, of course, but he would never ask directly. It simply wasn’t polite.

“I apologize, My Lady. It was never my intention to burden you.”

“Just Micaiah, please. You don’t need to be so formal. Especially not here.” Formality was the best way he could show his respect. Surely she understood that. Formality and  _ ‘modesty’ _ had always been what kept him safe.

“...Very well, Lady Micaiah.” That was the best he could do. He could never be so casual with her… it would only make his position worse. He was struggling enough as it was.

“I suppose I’ll take it,” Micaiah’s lips twitched up into a small smile, her eyes still boring into him. He didn’t like how vulnerable he felt. He felt as if she were parsing his thoughts just by looking at him. “Perhaps you should go rest. We’ve had a tiring day.”

“I’m… fine. There will be time to rest later.” Later… when all this was over. When Surtr was dead and  _ she _ had left. Micaiah’s eyes narrowed, clearly not believing him; and she shouldn’t, because he was a filthy liar. He wasn’t fine. He still craved Evelyn’s touch, he wanted to hear her voice, he wanted to be held. She would give him these things if he asked, most likely, but… this was the right thing to do. Right?

“I’ll let the others know you’re resting. At least go lie down for a little while… please? You don’t look well.” Micaiah placed her hands on her hips, her expression defiant. She intended to make him listen, regardless of what he said.

“...If that pleases you, My Lady. I… shall do as you ask.” He bowed his head respectfully and allowed his heavy feet to carry him away. It wouldn’t help, he knew he wouldn’t sleep. He would simply lay there and stare at the canvas roof of his tent and think about her. If he did sleep, he would dream of her. He would dream of her soft touch and sweet kiss, of the way it felt to have her close, chests pressed together as she crooned soft words in his ear.  _ Goddess he missed her _ .

What would she do if he sought her out and asked for these things? Would she smile and take his hand? Would she lead him to her tent and hold him until he slept? He  _ was _ very tired. He would give almost anything to lay his head on her chest and listen--  _ no _ . He needed to stop giving in to that line of thinking. If he gave in and crawled back to her, he would bring his sins,  _ all _ of them, back with him. That went against everything he attempting to do.

He glared fitfully at his tent, loneliness already settling in as it loomed over him. He didn’t like his tent. It was too isolating, too quiet. He’d never really enjoyed being alone; he’d only chosen it out of necessity, but it had never hurt as much as it did now. Now he just wished Robin would come to call, two cups of tea in hand as he told him about the last ridiculous thing Prince Chrom had done or said, but… without even being told to leave him be, the tactician seemed to be giving him a wide berth. Even Nino and the other young ones had begun to keep their distance. After those months of having companionship, he felt his isolation more than ever. He should have never allowed himself to become so used to it. He should have done the prudent thing and kept his distance, remaining cold and “stoic,” he’d known letting anyone close to him would only end in pain.

His chest and lungs felt heavy as the sounds of camp seemed to fall away, his darkened tent feeling too small in its silence.  _ Just like the closet _ . He shivered, sinking into the nearby chair as his breath caught in his throat, his head swimming as his heart slammed against his ribs.  _ Why was this happening now, after so many years?  _ He took a big, gulping breath, but found himself unable to hold it. He just needed to breathe. He needed to calm down, there was no need for this. He wasn’t trapped, he could leave at any time. No one would harm or yell at him if he walked outside, he knew this, but… he  _ felt _ trapped. Perhaps it was no physical prison, but… one of his own making. He was most certainly trapped between his desires and what he deserved. He’d created a cage for himself and had no idea how he would escape it, or even if he should.

He held his head in his hands, breathing slowly through his nose as he attempted to calm himself. There was no reason to panic or feel sorry for himself. Self pity was for those that had been dealt an unjust hand, he was simply reaping his comeuppances. He was no victim. He had earned this misery, and he would rot in it, just as he was meant to.

***

Evelyn kept her eyes on the simmering pot in front of her, the smell of freshly caught fish and paprika rising from the pot. It had been a little while since she’d last made this, but it was an easy enough recipe to remember. Zelgius’ mood had gone even further south since their talk, something she’d hardly even though possible, but she hoped that his favorite meal would cheer him up, even if only a little bit.

They’d need to hunt and stop to trade soon. They were running short on many essentials, and their game meat supply would be used up very soon. Even their jerky and hardtack would be gone in the next few weeks, and they would quickly run out of places to restock. Gunnthrá had warned them that towns and villages would become scarce the further north they went, and soon the snow may even be too deep for the wagons to travel at a reasonable pace. They would become a slow moving, obvious target for any force that would come upon them. They’d been lucky so far, only bumping up against Micaiah recently, but… that luck wouldn’t hold. Sooner or later, they’d have to stop; and really, it was probably better to do it sooner.

“You look worried, Evelyn.” Her head snapped up to look at Sonya, who was watching her thoughtfully from her place at the wash tub, soap running down her arms.

“I… guess I am. We need to send someone into town soon… we’re almost out of flour, and the healers have complained that they’re almost out of bandages and ointment. We need to go hunting, too. We’re gonna need fattier foods as we go north.”

“Sure, there’s that. I didn’t mean the food though, I meant that you seem worried about a certain someone.” Evelyn flinched, returning her gaze to the soup. She hadn’t exactly been trying to hide that she was worried about him, but to have it pointed out to her made her feel too transparent.

“I… I guess it’s because I love him,” she murmured. Her admission felt too personal, but it felt good to tell someone else. It was nice for it to be out in the open.

“Have you told him?”

“No, not in those exact words, at least. I… he’s…” Evelyn took a deep breath, shrugging her shoulders.  _ Infuriating _ , is what she wanted to call him, but it didn’t feel quite right. Zelgius was catastrophizing, he was scared, he was drowning in his own thoughts, but she didn’t know how to put those things into words without telling other people his business. “He’s a mess right now and love is a big bomb to drop on someone.”

Sonya hummed and wiped her hands on a rag, coming to stand beside her as they looked into the pot of soup together, it’s bright red color cheery despite the situation they were in. “That’s true. I’ve noticed he’s not been himself lately… he’s been distant. He was always quiet, but I always assumed he was just shy, or didn’t quite know what to say, but I could see that he wanted to be accepted. He’s been nothing but reclusive and anxious these past few weeks… it’s starting to hurt morale, I think. People don’t seem to feel as confident as they had.”

“I know, but I can’t force him. I can give him a nudge here and there and try to get through to him, but I can’t  _ make _ him snap out of this funk.” She hadn’t expected things to get so complicated when he’d arrived. Sure, she’d thought he was attractive and his quiet, gentle demeanor had endeared him to her, but she’d never thought  _ this _ would happen. But, she hadn’t expect a lot of things, so why should he be any different?

“That’s also true. I’m no expert, but… I’ve seen enough to know that he’s suffering. I think he needs you around, even if he says he doesn’t.” Evelyn’s reply died on her lips as a very frazzled, overwhelmed Nino came charging into the tent, her blue eyes wide and full of tears.

“Evelyn! Evelyn come on! Please?!” Evelyn was taken aback as the girl grabbed her hand, tugging her desperately towards the exit.

“Slow down, now! What’s going on?” Evelyn yelped, digging in her heels to stop her from yanking her away from the cooking fire.

“It’s… it’s General Zelgius… please?” Nino pleaded, looking up at her dolefully, her lip quivering.

“Well speak of the devil. Okay. Lead on then. Sonya, can you--” she gestured towards the fire, waiting only long enough to see the other woman nod. Nino wasn’t prone to hyperbole, so she didn’t doubt that she was genuinely worried. Evelyn trotted after Nino, following her through throngs of people towards the outskirts of camp. Whatever was going on definitely had everyone’s attention, and she soon saw the spectacle for herself.

Zelgius and the Black Knight were fighting. Not sparring,  _ fighting _ . She stood there, gaping at the scene before her, watching as poor Robin staggered back after being shoved away with an elbow to the chest, the movement harsh and unforgiving. It would bruise, she didn’t have any doubt about that. Watching the two of them fight was like watching someone banging rocks together, trying to see which one would break first. Zelgius was the more aggressive of the two, everything about him cold and vicious. He was fighting to kill. She shook herself, knowing that she couldn’t let this go on.

“ **At ease** !” Her bellow startled all that were there rubbernecking, but the men at the center of all the action didn’t even slow down. “Clear out, all of you! Robin, give these fools something to do.” As the crowd dispersed and Robin ordered them to do any mundane task he could think of, Evelyn made her way towards the two men currently still locked in a struggle. “Break it up.”

They ignored her in favor of circling each other, both of them glaring daggers at the other. She didn’t want to break out the old military response to this kind of behavior, she wanted to just sit them each down and make them calm down like rational adults, but she couldn’t just let them beat the shit out of each other, and when she saw how Zelgius the younger’s arm buckled slightly under a particularly violent strike from the elder, she knew she was out of time. If she didn’t break this up, someone would get hurt. Badly.

“ **What in the hell are you doing?** ”  _ That _ gave them each pause. Zelgius’ head whipped around to face her, his enraged expression slipping away. She couldn’t see the Black Knight’s expression, but she could tell by his body language that he was uncomfortable. Good, it’s what he got for acting like a child. “I asked you what you were doing. You two gone deaf?” She snapped, striding purposefully towards them, coming to a stop between them. She looked at each of them, Zelgius’ placid expression irritating her more than she thought possible.

“Settling our differences,” he said, his tone suggesting that she was silly for asking. It was a tone meant for alphabetizing a record collection or building a blanket fort, not attempting to kill someone.

“Is that right?” She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling like she was dealing with a pair of newly recruited privates, not veteran soldiers. “Well. Sounds to me like y’all need some correctional activity.” She stepped back, her arms coming to rest at her sides. If they wanted to behave like a pair of hotheaded kids, she’d treat them like they were. “On your faces. Both of you.” They stayed where they were, looking at her in confusion. “I  _ said _ on your faces.” They moved quickly, both of them lowering themselves down onto all fours. They knew what was coming, just as she’d expected they would. Physical discipline was probably common in most militaries. She almost felt bad, especially given that they wore all or almost all of their gear. They’d fatigue faster than usual.

“How many, My Lady?” the Black Knight asked, putting his helm aside.

“Until I’m tired. Now get going!” She watched as they obeyed, silence stretching between them as they bobbed up and down, their movements a little awkward thanks to their armor. “I’ve always said that there are smart soldiers, and strong soldiers. I think I’m starting to see which kind you are.” She paced to and fro, watching them work. “Straighten your back you. You look like you’re settling in for a fuckin’ nap.” There was nothing wrong with Zelgius’ form, but she was irritated with him. “I don’t know who started this, and I don’t care. Y’all need to square yourselves away and quit acting like a pair of fuckin’ knuckle draggers. You know better, and I expect better.”

“Forgive me, My Lady. I apologize.” Zelgius said, and the Black Knight snorted derisively in retort.

“You wouldn’t know contrition if I slapped you with it,” he said. Evelyn frowned and made her way towards him, coming to stand right beside him.

“You stop a second.” He did as he was told, jolting as she took a seat on his back, adjusting herself so that she was laying upon him, looking up at the clouds. “Sounds like you need a little extra challenge, since you’re feeling so energetic. Now get moving.”

She lay there in silence, monitoring both men as they endured their punishment. She could see Zelgius beginning to shake slightly, his body fighting to maintain proper form, but the man beneath her was far worse off. It had been long enough, they got the point, she was sure. They would be sore and embarrassed, but they’d still be able to fight if the need arose.

“That’s enough!” She got to her feet, walking back towards the front, just like she would have if she’d been disciplining her platoon. “On your feet!” They rose to their feet with quiet groans, both of them swaying on the spot briefly in their fatigue. “Now. You two both know what you did wrong, you both know why it’s unacceptable. Toe the fucking line, get your shit together, and don’t ever make me do that again. My days of making grown me puke are supposed be behind me, for Christ’s sake.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” they said, their heads down. She knew they felt bad for this, but she couldn’t let anyone say she favored them, so she’d rub their noses in it, just like she would any other soldier, and whether she liked it or not, they  _ were _ all soldiers. Even her.

“Don’t call me ma’am, I work for a living. Now get cleaned up and stay out of each other’s way. Supper’ll be ready soon.” She watched as they hurried away, avoiding each other’s gaze. She’d apologize for her rough treatment later, but for now, she’d just let them think about what they did.

***

“You decent in there?” Evelyn called, a tray laden with two steaming bowls of soup and two clean tankards ready for water.

“My Lady?” the Black Knight parted the flap of his tent, looking cutely surprised to see her, though he gave her a rueful smile when he saw her standing there with food. “I… hadn’t expected to see you tonight.”

“Well I ain’t gonna let you go hungry, sugar. I was irritated with y’all, but I ain’t a monster.”

“I would  _ never _ imply such a thing.” His lips quirked up as he accepted his meal and settled down, thanking her quietly as she poured him some water.

“You hush, you naughty thing.” She nudged his arm playfully, watching as he took his first bite. “How’s the soup?”

“Perfect. I never anticipated that I’d eat this here… it’s… comforting. Aren’t you going to eat?” He asked, indicating the bowl still sitting on the tray.

“Hm? Nah. This is the  _ other _ naughty boy’s food. I’ll eat once I’ve made sure you two are taken care of.”

“Mm.” He placed his spoon down, straightening his back to look at her. “I… apologize for this afternoon. It was unbecoming of me. Us.”

“Tell me your end. What happened?” She asked, taking a seat. She couldn’t stay long, Zelgius’ soup would get cold; but she needed to understand.

“He… I think he just… needed to take out some of his frustration and knew I could handle it. It began as a verbal exchange and escalated.” He shrugged, returning to his meal.

“So did he start the verbal part, or did you pick at him?” She asked. She knew they didn’t like each other, and the man in front of her was far more willing to take jabs.

“He came to me, but… I may have provoked him… a little; though I didn’t expect him to react the way he did. Whether I like it or not, he’s still me… it was nothing I felt would make me so angry that I’d throw away all propriety or discipline,” he said. She was almost surprised he was so honest, but that was just the way he was. Zelgius, regardless of which one she was talking to, was mostly an honest man, even when it would be easier not to be.

“Naughty boy.” She reached out and pinched his cheek, grinning as he grumbled in protest. “You’re such a brat.” She couldn’t keep the affection out of her voice. It was then that she realized that at some point, Zelgius had become an almost nebulous concept to her. She loved him in all of his forms, flaws and all. She loved the man sitting in front of her, she loved the man that was likely sulking across camp. Her conscious mind could keep them separate, but her heart didn’t know the difference, nor did it care.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, smiling at her. It was like looking at a memory from almost a month ago, before Zelgius began spiraling. She stood and made her way around the table, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair away from his face. He was flushing darkly when she pulled away, his emerald eyes wide in surprise.

“I need to take this to him before it gets cold… I’ll see you later, honey. I need a fresh shirt, anyway,” she said. He grabbed her hand as she turned away, his warm skin a welcome feeling after going without it. She watched as he brought her palm to his lips, nuzzling her wrist before letting her go.

“Later, then. Come to me if you have trouble sleeping.”

“Aw, are you gonna tuck me in?” She asked, plucking the tray from the table.

“If you ask me nicely.” He leaned back in his chair, grinning at her as she moved away. It was always hard to leave, no matter which one she was with.

“I might. Excuse me, hon.” He nodded and returned to his meal, allowing her to leave with no further distractions.

If she were being honest, she was dreading the next delivery. She knew that he was likely to be mopey and irritable, and she had little patience for either when it came to men. At least he wouldn’t be drunk. That was the only silver lining of the whole situation.

“Zelgius? I brought your supper.” She frowned when he didn’t reply. Usually he would at least give her that much. “Zelgius?” She waited a few moments, tapping her foot in impatience. “Okay, I’m coming in. Don’t be naked.” Or do, it didn’t matter either way.

When she entered, she was surprised to find him in bed, his lamp turned down low to avoid wasting fuel. She turned it up a little, allowing her to see better. Zelgius’ back was facing her, his posture almost defensive. Carefully, so she didn’t startle him, she gently shook his shoulder. He grunted, his eyes slow to open and he had to blink several times to keep them that way.

“I brought you food, hon.” She kept her tone gentle as he forced himself up, obviously sore from his punishment.

“Thank you, My Lady… you didn’t have to do that.”

“Well you wouldn’t have eaten if someone didn’t, and we can’t be having that,” she said, taking a seat at the table. He hesitated a moment before joining her, his expression brightening slightly when he realized what she’d made.

“Thank you.” His tone was packed with emotion. He genuinely sounded grateful, and almost happy, if not for the note of guilt.

“You’re welcome.” She took that moment to pour him a tankard of water, smiling slightly as she watched him eat. Zelgius had impeccable manners, but sometimes he ate like he was worried someone would take it from him. She took her seat once more, waiting patiently for him to finish. She wouldn’t bring up what had happened that afternoon until he was done eating. She didn’t want him to get distracted and leave it to get cold. They needed him strong, now more than ever.

As he slumped back into his chair, his cheeks a little pink from the warm soup and the spices, he almost looked like nothing was wrong and the past weeks were just a bad dream she’d had. He’d had a nap, a good meal, and a drink of water, so he looked okay for the time being.

“Now that you’re done eating, we need to talk,” she said. His eyes opened, his comfortable posture melting away as he came to rigid attention. There was an anxiousness simmering just beneath the surface, his eyes darting across her face as he tried to read her mood. “What happened this afternoon?” Zelgius’ shoulders drooped slightly, his eyes flitting down to the table.

“I… lost my temper. I apologize… I know I shamed you, My Lady. You’re right not to want me in your service.” He lowered his head, keeping his eyes down. Her heart ached at the dejected tone of his voice. He thought  _ that _ was why she never gave him an answer? It had nothing to do with his flaws.

“Zelgius. You don’t need to beat yourself up over it, I just want to understand what happened. What did he say to you?”

“...True things. Things I needed to hear and things I already knew.” So cruel things then, the exact opposite of what he needed to hear at the time. Evelyn rose to her feet and made her way around the table.

“So he said awful, insensitive things and you lost your temper?” She asked, her voice low.

“I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t an accusation, honey. No one’s angry.” She had been at first. She’d been irritated with them both, their childish fighting was bad for morale, and maybe she’d reacted harsher than she would have a few weeks before, but… they just couldn’t afford this kind of thing. “Whatever he said, you didn’t deserve to hear it.”

“You don’t know that. What you saw this afternoon was the most honest I’ve ever been with you.” She doubted that somehow. He’d certainly shown his ass and she’d seen an ugly side of his personality, but it was nothing she’d not seen already. She’d been seeing that more aggressive, surly side of him long before she ever even got a glimpse of the gentle heart he hid underneath.

“You act like I’ve never seen you hell bent on killing someone before. What do you expect me to do? Drop you just because I saw something you ain’t proud of?”

“It’s what you should do. You hardly know me and I won’t let you get any closer. It’s… better this way. If not for you, then for me.”

“And why’s that?” She was starting to get the sense that he just loved being miserable. He was married to it.

“Because--” he rose to his feet, stacking the dirty dishes on the tray. “I’m not capable of being anything else. I am what I am, My Lady. I’ve been like this too long now to change.”

“But… you already  _ have _ changed.”

“No, I haven’t. I can pretend to be whatever I think I need to be, but I will always be the same violent, arrogant trash that I’ve always been.”

“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” she said, her heart aching for him. He thought so poorly of himself and it hurt to know it.

“Best that I speak the truth,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he pushed the tray towards her. “You should leave. I imagine you’ve more important things to do than speak with me.”

“ _ You’re  _ important to me. I told you already, didn’t I?” He finally met her eyes, and she was surprised to find something like anger there. She held her ground. She trusted him not to hurt her, but she knew just as well as he did that he  _ could _ .

“ **Stop** .” His voice was harsh, his expression hardening. “Leave me be, woman. Every moment spent with you is misery.” She was taken aback by his harsh words.

“Zelgius…?” It hurt to hear that come from him. He put his hand roughly on her shoulder and pushed her along, his fingers bunching in her robe and shirt as she attempted to resist him.

“Wait! You don’t need to--” She twisted in his grasp, tossing the tray away as she allowed her robe to fall away in his grasp. “Get your fucking hands off me!”

“Then get out. I’ve been courteous for too long and allowed you to think there was more to it. There’s nothing here for you.” He threw her robe back at her, crossing his arms. She stayed still a moment longer, her hands shaking as they grasped her robe, all too aware of the tears running down her cheeks. “I have never, nor will I ever enjoy or desire your company. Now begone.” She did as he said, not bothering to pick up the tray and scattered dishes. If he wanted them out of his tent, he could do it his damn self.

The air was cold and stung where her cheeks were wet, but she ignored it in favor of making her way to her tent. She wasn’t hungry anymore, and the last thing she wanted was for someone to see her crying, especially not over a man. Men weren’t worth crying over. Men would always just disappoint and hurt her. How many times did she have to get burned before she learned that? Even a man that seemed genuine and kind was capable of being a liar, and she’d been stupid to be drawn in by a handsome face and gentle hands.  _ Stupid little girl _ . She hated that she ever had to see him again. She hated that it hurt her to know that everything had been a lie. She hated that she still loved him anyway.

***

“Evelyn?” She sighed at the sound of Gunnthrá’s voice. It was cold outside and she sounded so sincere in her concern that she couldn’t ignore her, even though she really just wanted to be alone while she tried to get her head back on straight. Evelyn wiped her eyes, for what little good it did, and rose to her feet, pulling her robe tightly around her.

“What do you need, hon?” She asked, pulling the canvas aside just a little.

“I noticed you weren’t at supper… so I brought you something to eat. And some tea.” The Princess remained outside, her soft gaze breaking down her resolve. Evelyn pulled the flap open and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. She placed the tray on the table and took a seat, clearly waiting on her to join her.

“Well thank you, honey. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but… well. I was concerned for you. We all were, when you didn’t return. I checked with General Zelgius first, but his lamp was out, so I didn’t want to disturb him. And er… the  _ other _ General Zelgius told me he hadn’t seen you since you’d brought you his meal. I’m glad I found you here,” she said.

“Where else would I be?” Evelyn muttered, sipping her soup.

“We can’t be too careful. Any of our enemies would want to hurt you, Evelyn.”

“I… yeah. I know. I’m sorry, I’m just not in a good mood right now,” she said, rubbing at her face for a moment before returning to her meal. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“What happened? Did… something not go well?”

“Oh Zelgius is just being a man. You know how that goes. He wants his space, he wants to be a miserable sonuvabitch and mope around instead of actually communicating and trying to do something about whatever the problem is. Fuck him, if he wants to be that way, then he can be that way.” She didn’t really believe that or want him to stay the way he was, but… she was angry and hurt. She hadn’t forgiven him, but much of her earlier despair had fallen away. Of course Zelgius was pushing her away. Most people did, didn’t they? How many years did she spend pushing away people who were only trying to help her? They would talk about it later, when he apologized.

“I’m so sorry… it must be frustrating. I’ve… never had a relationship like that with a man, but… I know how people are when they are struggling, but aren’t quite ready to admit it. I’m sure he’ll come around, given time.”

“Ugh… I know. I know he will eventually, I just wish he wouldn’t lash out at me in the meantime.” The man was a disaster, for certain.

“I understand that. When we were younger, my siblings often came to me with their frustrations, and I’ve been the target of their frustration many times. I’m sorry he’s being so cantankerous, dear.” Gunnthrá patted her hand, smiling warmly.

“Thanks, honey. I’m okay, I’m just… frustrated with him, I reckon. I’ll get over it.” She knew it sounded pitiful. She had more important things to be worried about, a man was the least of her worries in the grand scheme of it all, but apparently love made a person stupid.

“You should drink your tea before it gets cold. It’ll help you relax,” Gunnthrá said. Evelyn hummed quietly, returning to her soup.

“You in a hurry, honey? You’re fidgeting a little. You don’t have to babysit me, I’ll be fine.”

“Hm? Oh, no. I’m just getting restless, I suppose. The closer we get to the temple, the more energized I feel. Victory is just in reach for us, I think. We just… need to hurry.” Gunnthrá settled in her chair once more, her serene expression returning. Evelyn pushed her empty bowl aside and took up her tankard, settling back. She didn’t recognize the smell of the tea.

“What kind of tea is this? It smells… awful.” Evelyn sniffed it again, frowning at the bitter smell.

“It’s made with valerian root, if I recall correctly. Father Wrys recommended it for you. He says it’s a mild sedative,” Gunnthrá said, shrugging. “I’d thought the same, if I’m honest, but if he says it will help, I trust him.”

“Well, he’d know better than me, I guess. I just wish it didn’t smell like turpentine.” Evelyn grimaced as she took her first sip, the bitter flavor coating her tongue unpleasantly. It reminded her too much of cold medicine, but with no attempt to even mask the awful taste. “God _ damn _ that’s awful.” Gunnthrá giggled, but said nothing.

As she drank and the moments went on, Evelyn noticed a strange tingling sensation in her throat and a dizziness she’d not expected. She tried to speak, but everything seemed to move at a glacial pace, her mouth opening without sound. She blinked rapidly and tried again, but to no avail. Her stomach hurt and her arms felt like they were made of lead. She knew she was tipping sideways, but had no way to right herself.

“Oh dear, you don’t look so good.” Gunnthrá’s voice was muffled, like she were hearing it underwater. “I can’t say I expected it to work so quickly.” Evelyn grunted as she fell from her chair, vision leaving her as she lay there. This was wrong. Nothing Wrys would give her should do this to her. _What… was happening?_


	13. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn finds that things are not as they appear while Zelgius and the others attempt to make sense of what has happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I definitely enjoy about the Heroes universe is that it lets you play with Norse myth, in an attempt to make everything more cohesive. Hopefully I'm still doing an okay job with that.

There was a familiar, rough texture against her cheek as her eyes worked themselves open. Her head throbbed dully as she forced herself to sit up straight at the table, cursing the shaft of sunlight that beamed through the kitchen window. It was silent, but that wasn't unusual. She peered at the digital display on the stove, its green LED clock telling her it was 8:22. How much had she had to drink the night before? Where the hell had she even been, and how did she even get home? She rubbed at her eyes as a stab of pain shot through them, groaning miserably. She had to stop drinking like that, it was a terrible idea. 

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Everett’s voice was still groggy, but she could practically hear the shit eating grin on his face.

“Make yourself useful for once and make some coffee,” she grunted. Her brother snorted, but padded his way into the kitchen, nudging her playfully on his way by. 

“So, I don’t reckon you have anything important to do today do you?” Everett asked, measuring out coffee grounds.

“I…” Did she? She honestly couldn’t remember. She was still mostly asleep, she was pretty sure and the hangover pounding away in her head didn’t help matters. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Well, I was thinkin’ we could take the girls down to the river. They pestered me about it all night last night. Whatcha think?” Evelyn pressed her finger tips against her aching eyes as she considered his proposition. It sounded fun, but there was something nagging her. She just didn’t know what it was. Probably nothing. She’d feel better after a shower.

“Sure, why not. You don’t think Mama’s gonna need help?”

“She ought not, and it ain’t like we’re gonna be gone all day,” Everett said, his tone implying that she’d asked an odd question.

“Okay then. How’s the weather gonna be?”

“Weatherman says sunny, but we know how fast that can change. Shouldn’t be a problem though, high’s 92.” So, good weather for playing in the water and fishing. It was odd that he hadn’t mentioned anyone else going with them, but Everett wasn't much for plans, so maybe she shouldn’t think too much about it.

The coffee pot sputtered and gurgled as moments passed, Everett’s fingers drumming on the countertop the only other sound in the house. She took that moment to look around, becoming immediately confused by what she saw. She hadn’t noticed before, but… wasn’t the stove in the wrong place? She was sure it used to be on the left side of the kitchen… now it was on the right. And… the countertops were the wrong color, she was sure. They were supposed to be an eggshell faux marble, not bright white. They were small details, but it was enough to catch her attention. 

“What’re you staring at? You look confused,” Everett asked. 

“Huh? Oh, nothin’. I think I’m still drunk. I was just thinking that the countertop looked weird.”

“You sure you just drank? You didn’t get into any of that wild shit, did you?” Her brother asked, oddly concerned. She was there the first time he tried cocaine, so him worrying about her was a bit rich. 

“Don’t think so. It’s probably just the way the light’s hitting ‘em.” She rose to her feet and made her way towards the cabinets, searching for a mug.  _ Huh _ . “Did Mama rearrange the whole damn kitchen?”

“No…? Mugs are here, you damn fool. They’ve always been here.” He shoved a cup into her hand, frowning at her briefly. She really was still drunk, it seemed. If Everett said the mugs had always been in the leftmost cabinet, then they were. She was starting to think he’d know that better than she would. “Damn, I guess I should drive. The way you’re acting, you’d probably forget which side of the road to drive on.” She was acting strangely, wasn’t she? Coffee would help. She was still foggy from waking up. Everything was fine.

“Oh shut up,” she groused. She poured her coffee and took her seat, squinting against the light pouring in through the window. That annoying, nagging feeling was still with her. She was forgetting something, it told her, but she couldn’t think of anything. Her head hurt when she thought too hard about it.

“You should go wash up, Evie. I’ll make us some grub, and then we can go.” That sounded reasonable. They’d want to get down to the river before it got to be too hot. She nodded in affirmation, still sipping her coffee. It tasted blander than usual. Was it old? It had smelled so good, but it tasted more like the  _ aftertaste _ of coffee than the real thing, but there was no need to think too hard about it. Thinking just hurt. There was no reason to hurt. Not anymore.

***

“My Lady?” Zelgius’ brow furrowed as he called out to her and was met with silence. He had no doubt she was angry with him, it was what he’d wanted, after all… but she was completely unafraid to show him her anger. If she were awake, he was certain she’d let him know. “Commander Anna requests your presence.” He forced himself to remain distant and cold, he had to keep up the act. It was for the best. He was doing the right thing. His aching heart didn’t matter. He’d forget her tears eventually, in thirty or so years. 

Still no answer? No movement, no nothing. She wasn’t a terribly deep sleeper, so surely she’d heard him by now. She could be as petty as anyone, but she’d never ignore her duty out of spite. Should he check on her? Would that overstep the boundaries that he’d put them through the pain of setting? She’d be angry with him for simply intruding, but it was apparently urgent, and they’d be needing to move on very soon. With a shrug, Zelgius pushed his way into the tent, squinting in the near darkness at the mess of bedding she usually slept in, immediately noting a strange, bitter smell in the air.

She lay still and silent on her back, one arm raised over her head, almost as though she were reaching for something above her. She didn’t sleep like that, normally. She had a tendency to curl in on herself and tuck her legs, her arms around whatever she could reach. He stepped closer, holding his breath as he did. He wasn’t sure why he felt so anxious. What was the worst she’d do? If she hit him, he’d deserve it.

“My Lady, you need to get up.” Nothing. Not so much as a twitch. With a sigh, he lowered himself to his knees and reached out, resisting the urge to brush his fingers against her cheek, shaking her shoulder instead. Panic lanced through him when he realized that shaking her did nothing as well. He groped for the lamp in the darkness and attempted to give himself a light, but the sound of rushing fuel was nowhere to be found. Her lamp had burned itself out overnight. His hands were clumsy as he freed them from his gauntlets and gloves, shaking as he sought her out. Her skin was chilled, but not so cold as to suggest that she was gone… or at least that she’d departed recently. 

He could feel himself trembling as he attempted to find the best way to press his ear to her chest, that bitter smell strong around her as he negotiated with his own mass. He didn’t want to hurt her. He needed to be gentle… she’d said she liked it when he was gentle. He was a monster, but he could pretend for her… he should have just listened to her and tried. He’d said cruel things and now; if she were gone, he had no chance to take them back.  _ Even if she weren’t gone, he’d lost his chance _ .

A quiet sob broke through his control as he finally managed to place his head upon her breast, the soft thudding of her heart overwhelming him with emotion. She wasn’t dead.  _ She wasn’t dead, not yet _ . He wasted no time in wrapping his cloak around her to protect her from the chill and rising to his feet, holding her close to his chest. He wished he’d just given in. He could have been with her and perhaps gotten her help sooner. Why did he have to be so stupid? So stubborn? Why was he such a craven?  _ If she died it was his fault _ . 

Time was of the essence. He had no idea what was wrong, nor how long they had. He needed to get her to the healers immediately. He barely noticed he was sprinting until he nearly trampled Sir Clive, but he had no time to consider how it all looked or apologize. He would worry about it later, when his lady was safe. It didn’t matter if she loved him, he just needed her safe.

“Lissa?! Father Wrys?!” They looked up as he came towards them, their expressions going from confusion to shock to horror as he came to a stop in front of them. “We’ve a problem.” That was a gross understatement to be sure, but there were no words that could describe how he felt. 

“What… what’s happened?” The old curate asked, pressing a gnarled hand against her forehead. “Bring her inside, dear boy. It’s too cold for her out here. Lissa, be a dear and fetch the commander.” Zelgius followed him into the tent, towards an empty cot at the back.

“I found her like this when I went to retrieve her. I didn’t get a look at her tent, but… I smelled something bitter.”

“Bitter? Medicinal?” Wrys asked, unwrapping the cloak from her small form. She was much paler than he’d anticipated, her freckled skin translucent and shining with a fine sheen of sweat. Her hair was matted, her lips crusted with what could be vomit, though he wasn’t certain at this distance. 

“Perhaps.” It  _ could _ be described as medicinal, he supposed.

“What’s happened to Evelyn?” Princess Sharena’s voice was concerned as she came to a stop beside him, covering her mouth as she looked at the woman on the bed. 

“Now, now. Let’s not crowd around her, she may not be contagious, but we can’t be too careful.” Wrys ushered them away, nudging Zelgius along with his cane. He was far too upset and numb to even be angry, he just obeyed. “Now. First, I propose we search her tent and the commissary for anything out of the ordinary. I can’t say for certain, but I believe she’s ingested something she ought not have. If she were a child, I would say she could have done it on accident… but she isn’t. I believe… I believe we’ve a traitor among us.”

“I… shall go search the tent,” he said, feeling almost as though he were viewing everything from above, his body moving on its own accord.

“Meet us in the war tent, General. Bring anything you find with you.” Commander Anna was clearly shaken, but she hid it well all things considered. 

“Bring me every tin of tea and spice you find in the mess tent. We must try to discern what she was poisoned with. In the meantime, we will attempt to resuscitate her.” 

Zelgius didn’t linger after receiving his orders. He didn’t want to see her like that. He would do whatever was necessary to ensure that she was okay… and when they found the traitor that harmed her, he would kill them without mercy. There were some sins he simply couldn’t overlook. 

***

It was easier to see now that he had the tent flap thrown open, an oil lamp lighting what the sun did not. Her tent was mostly undisturbed, save the table. Her chair was tipped over, but the dirty bowl and tankard still sat upon the table. The tankard was on its side, its contents long since spilled over the surface, but not quite dry.  _ That _ was the source of the bitter smell. Whatever had been in her cup was possibly the culprit. For the sake of being thorough, he checked everything over, ensuring that nothing had been stolen. Breidablik was present, surprisingly. That… hadn’t been what he’d expected at all. Cautiously, he took it in his hand and moved to collect the cup. He would hold onto the weapon for the time being. Better someone he  _ knew _ he could trust had it.

“Did you find anything good?” He whirled around, scowling at the man standing at the entrance. Why did Niles want to bother him  _ now _ of all times?

“Nothing about any of this is  _ good _ ,” he snapped. Niles sighed straightening his posture.

“That’s not really what I meant. Useful, I guess is what I should have said.” Niles’ demeanor surprised him. There was no playfulness or falsely polite needling. It was a refreshing change from their usual interaction.

“Smell this.” If anyone knew the smell of poison, it would be a man like Niles. 

“Hmmm,” the man’s eye narrowed as he sniffed again, wincing at the pungent smell, “I wish I could identify it, but I can’t. I know it’s probably not good though. Come on, let’s get back to the others… the healers might--” Niles stopped, gaping at the other item Zelgius carried. “ _ That _ didn’t disappear?”

“I was surprised as well. I’d thought that any would be traitor would steal this, if for no other reason than to hurt us further.” Niles remained silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. 

“I can’t think of any reason to leave it behind. No one but Evelyn can even use the damned thing. If they’re actually trying to sabotage us, then they’d want to remove any possibility of us finding someone else who can, right?”

“That would be logical, yes.”  _ It’s what he would do _ . Perhaps their assassin was bad at their job.

“General Zelgius!” He turned towards the voice, but didn’t stop. Commander Anna was fit and healthy, she could catch up on her own time. “What did you find?” He offered her the mug first, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. She didn’t seem to be acting strangely. She grimaced at the smell rising from the vessel, handing it back to him. “Anything else?”

“Breidablik. I have it here… but I believe I’ll hold onto it for now, at least until we have more information.” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, only that he remembered that they couldn’t necessarily trust their eyes and the smell of the cup was so strong that he’d struggle to catch anything more subtle. He’d not ruled out an attack from the outside, and he doubted the commander had either.

“Fair enough. You’re probably one of the safer people to have it right now anyway. The healers are sorting through all the tea and spices right now, but I think we can narrow our search down with that. It’s odd that they’d leave something like this behind.” 

“Perhaps it is a taunt, or perhaps they aren’t trying to hide anything from us at all. These sorts of things aren’t my area of expertise,” he said.

“Well, I wager we’ll find out soon enough. Robin, Soren and Prince Leo have been asking around camp. They should have something for us by now,” Anna said. Zelgius nodded and fell silent, keeping his eyes forward. That was all he could do for now: move forward and try to remain calm.

***

Her room looked normal enough. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She was just being paranoid, she would feel better once she got washed up. She frowned as she opened her closet, finding it full of civilian clothes, but her uniforms were all missing. Her class A’s she could understand, she was fairly certain they were at the dry cleaners… but her ACUs should be there. Had she forgotten them in the dryer? That wasn’t like her. She shrugged and reached for a clean change of clothes. She would worry about it later. It wasn’t like she needed them right that moment.

It was strange that her father wasn’t passed out in the living room. Usually she’d come through to see him sprawled out in his chair, beer bottles strewn around him. Today, the living room was clean and nothing smelled like booze. There were no cigarette butts all over the bathroom sink, either. Where was the old man, anyway? Did he pass out in his truck again? It wouldn’t be the first time. She wasn’t sure she really cared one way or the other anymore, she just wished the fool wouldn’t be a menace. Maybe they could try to talk to him again later. She knew it wouldn’t help, but it was worth a shot anyway. At least then the neighbors wouldn’t give her the same old false sympathies.

She frowned as she studied her face in the mirror, finding herself to look significantly less tired and haggard than she’d expected. That was a good thing, she supposed, but it was definitely not what she was used to. She’d been exhausted for what felt like forever. It was nice to feel rested for once.

“Hey, Evie?” Everett’s voice was nearby, right outside the door, maybe. Wasn’t he supposed to be making breakfast? 

“Yeah?”

“So I thought we could have a fish fry for lunch, whatcha think?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me. I’ll help you pack up once I’m done in here. Don’t let the food burn,” she called. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up.” Why was he being so pushy? 

***

The tent went quiet as Robin and the others entered, their expressions grim. Zelgius shifted nervously from foot to foot, his hand twitching against the hilt of his sword. He wanted to know who did this, he wanted to see the face of the person who hurt his precious lady. Soren cleared his throat and stepped forward, his crimson eyes searching the crowd until he found who he was looking for. 

“Princess Gunnthrá, you were the last known person to see the Summoner last night. Did you see anything amiss?” He asked. Gunnthrá made a confused noise, tilting her head in response.

“I… didn’t see Evelyn at all last night. I went to bed before supper last night, I wasn’t feeling well,” she said. 

“That’s not what everyone else remembers. Most of us saw you in the commissary, and we saw you make a tray to bring to Evelyn’s tent last night as well,” Soren pushed, his tone accusatory.

“Well I’m afraid you’re mistaken because I didn’t do that. Princess Sakura and many among the guards could confirm this,” she remained calm, but her voice was strained. Zelgius watched her carefully, looking for any signs of dishonesty. She had no reason to hurt Evelyn, unless it was out of some sense of vengeance for Forsvollr. He needed to wait and listen. Now was not the time to make a hasty decision, even if he really, really wanted someone to answer for this. 

“And how are we to know you didn’t offer them pay in return for their cooperation? It would be easy enough to create conflicting accounts. There were only a handful of us that were not present last night, and many that saw you were trustworthy. What did you bring her last night?”

“I brought her nothing. When I made my way to bed, she was still up and about. I saw her speaking with the commander,” she asserted. 

“I believe my sister. I remember her telling me she was feeling light headed.” Fjorm’s voice was firm, her shoulders squared. She looked far more offended by the accusation than Gunnthrá did, though it was hard to tell what the elder princess was thinking at any given time.

“Well of course  _ you _ believe her, Fjorm. She’s your sister, and it’s hard to believe a sister would ever betray you.” Leo’s tone was bitter, but it held no malice, only a deep regret. 

“That’s not--”

“ _Be_ _quiet_. We’re trying to discern who poisoned the Summoner, we can’t let our personal feelings get in the way.” Soren’s voice was sharp as he crossed his arms. “Now. Princess Gunnthrá, what time would you say you went to bed?”

“It was dusk. Evelyn was standing by the central fire, speaking with Commander Anna about something, so I didn’t want to interrupt them by saying goodnight.”

“I remember speaking to her around that time, yes. We were discussing our supply situation. We’d decided that we would send out a hunting party today and have a small convoy move ahead for trade at the nearest city.” Anna nodded, folding her arms behind her back. 

“Did you speak to anyone after that, Princess?” Robin asked, his tone decidedly more gentle.

“I went by the infirmary to get an herbal draught for my dizziness, but other than that, no. Princess Sakura was the healer on duty at the time,” Gunnthrá explained.

“Sakura, can you confirm this?” Leo asked. The young Hoshidan princess squeaked nervously before stepping forward. 

“U-um… yes. I d-did see her last night. I gave her a chamomile and nettle tea to help soothe her. I d-didn’t feel that her dizziness was anything to worry about, that rest would help.” Her voice was so small that Zelgius had to strain to hear her, but he caught it well enough. Chamomile and nettle didn’t smell like whatever had been in that cup, nor did he believe that princess Sakura would ever conspire to poison anyone. 

“Could she not have simply left to go to supper and done the deed?” Soren asked. Sakura shook her head, her mouth drawing into a thin line.

“She could have, b-but she’d have to act fairly quickly. I-it would have made her lethargic.”

“And did she drink it there with you?” Leo asked. Sakura nodded. 

“Then that should put  _ that _ to rest, I’d think. As I said, I went to bed early last night,” Gunnthrá said.

“Then that leaves only one possibility.” Zelgius winced at the sound of  _ his _ voice. His twin had neglected his helm, so the only thing that differentiated them to the casual observer was the color of their cloaks. “This is that witch’s doing.” Yes, that was the conclusion he’d drawn as well. Really, he doubted that any present truly believed that princess Gunnthrá had been the culprit, but due diligence was necessary.

“You know, Evelyn’s world has a saying; ‘speak of the devil, and he shall appear,’ and what do you know? Here I am.” Zelgius’ head swivelled to the entrance of the tent, his hand already flying to the hilt of his sword. Loki smiled calmly, seemingly unconcerned by the people around her.

“Did you poison the Summoner?” Soren asked, his tone suggesting that he already knew the answer. 

“I did! I felt like you were taking too long to put your little plan into action. My king is very angry you see, and very, very close.” 

“And you felt that poisoning Evelyn was the best way to get us to move faster?” Robin asked, taking a step towards her. Zelgius had known him long enough to see that he was angry, even if he hid it well.

“She would have had to drink it regardless. I merely made it easier for her. Mistletoe would be unpleasant for anyone, but worse for Baldr and his children.” Loki shrugged, her smile still firmly in place. “You really don’t have time to dawdle, I’m afraid. She’ll be fine for the time being, but it won’t last forever.” Zelgius felt rage bubble up within him. This  _ bitch _ poisoned his lady and then dared to proclaim that she was  _ helping _ ? Before she or anyone else could react, Zelgius dipped into the pouch of warp powder at his belt and activated a measure of it. 

The woman gasped as his hand wrapped tightly around her neck, and he put his full strength into slamming her down onto a nearby table, the air rushing from her lungs as her back hit the hard surface. Her hand wrapped around his wrist helplessly as he squeezed, just tight enough to make things difficult, though he had no intentions of killing her. Not yet. She still had information to give them, and much more suffering to do before he allowed her to die.

“My, my. I never knew you had it in you, dear. What an aggressive puppy you are,” somehow, even with his hand gripping her throat, she still managed to maintain a flirtatious coo that set his teeth on edge. In spite of her lurid gaze, he maintained firm eye contact, refusing to be cowed by her. If she wanted to tell all present of his thoughts, then she could. He no longer cared if these people knew how he felt, as long as Evelyn would be safe. Loki’s hand slid up his arm, coming to rest against his cheek. 

“Remove your hand.” He gave her neck a squeeze, which only succeeded in making her hum in amusement. 

“Now, now dear. I know you won’t kill me here. There’s still more I have to tell you, so why don’t we dispense with the angry posturing? After all, I’m on your side in this.”

“I sincerely doubt that.” He had no guarantee that letting her go would ensure that she told them everything they needed to know, and he had every intention of crushing the life out of her the moment he got the chance. “Speak.”

“Woof, woof.” He grit his teeth, but didn’t respond, glaring down at her as he waited. No one else was speaking, but he could sense the trepidation in the air. They were waiting to see what he would do, just as Loki was. He felt a grim sense of satisfaction as a brief flicker of genuine fear crossed over her face as he reached for his knife. “Oh, fine. I can see you’re in no mood for jokes, dear. You’ll need to take her north, to the temple of Baldr. It’s a bit tricky to find, but Breidablik will lead you there.” Loki snapped her fingers and disappeared briefly in a flash of light, reappearing again where she’d entered, bending down to pick up her staff. He took solace in the fact that he’d left bruises behind, and she was clearly feeling sore in the back. If nothing else, he’d shown her a fraction of his own anguish. “Goodness, but you really are meaner than you look. I never expected such rough treatment of a lady.”

“If you were a lady, I would never have done so.  _ You _ aren’t even human.”

“Then we’re quite alike, aren’t we?” Loki’s smile turned taunting, her gaze sweeping around the tent as she took a step back. “I’ll be seeing you all again very soon, but I suspect it’ll be the last time. I’d hurry if I were you, you should have enough time to get her there if you leave soon.” No one moved to stop her, there was no point. She’d done what she’d intended, and had told them all that she would. It was up to them to decide what they would do with it. He would get his chance to kill her later, after all.

“Would someone like to explain this mess?” Zelgius asked, turning back to the gaggle of people behind him. Many of them shrank back, his display of temper and the cold tone of his voice finally shaking whatever faith they still had in him. He ignored the ache in his chest as he saw Robin step back to give him room. “Princess Gunnthrá? Perhaps you have some insight?” 

“I--” she cleared her throat and stepped forward, folding her hands in an effort to hide how they seemed to shake. “Evelyn is, as Loki mentioned, descended from the great dragon Baldr. She is… for lack of a better term, his hands and eyes. He can no longer interact with this plane, and must do so through a delegate. Evelyn is that delegate. Breidablik was given to humanity by Baldr so that we may attempt to keep balance in the world and forestall Ragnarok, the end of all things.”

“And for her to do this, she had to drink poison?” Zelgius asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes. In order for her to fully come into that power, she will have to accept Baldr’s blessing; and to do so, she would have to enter his realm. I… had no intention of forcing her to do it. She was on the cusp of understanding it all on her own. Loki thrust this upon her needlessly.”

“It’s kind of you to create the illusion of choice, Princess; but we all know she has none. If she wants to return home to her life and her family, she would have to go through with it. Loki thrust this upon her without consent, yes; but need is another matter,” Leo said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 

“Is… is Evelyn dying?” Sharena asked, her voice wavering slightly. Zelgius flinched at the question, but he needed the answer as well.

“Yes, slowly. Every moment she spends unconscious, she gets weaker; we have two to three days to get her to the temple and complete the ritual. If we don’t, she’ll die of dehydration.”

“So it isn’t the poison that will kill her?” Soren asked.

“It shouldn’t, no. Mistletoe isn’t particularly dangerous to adults; her connection to Baldr is what makes her vulnerable to it at all, but it shouldn’t have been a lethal dose. She likely didn’t manage more than one or two sips,” Gunnthrá said.

“Why would a parasitic weed be so dangerous for her?” Leo asked, crossing his arms. “Mistletoe should make her feel ill at most, not--” he gestured vaguely in the direction of the infirmary, “that.” 

“Because Mistletoe was the only thing that could harm Baldr, and so it does harm to those descended from him. When we lay her upon his altar, he will be able to purge her of the poison, provided she finds her way to him. We can’t help her with that, unfortunately. She will have to do so on her own.” Zelgius ran his hand through his hair, growling quietly to himself. If he’d just been the man she wanted him to be, he could have avoided much of the fear and stress. It was his fault that they were now in such a predicament; that  _ she _ was in such danger.

“We should decide what to do now. As fascinating as this all is, we’ve wasted too much time trying to understand her situation rather than rectifying it,” his twin said, coming to stand near him. They made eye contact in a grim, understanding silence. They both felt guilty. In a way, it was nice to have someone to share it with. 

“Yes… you’re right. Do you have any suggestions?” Anna asked, seeming to finally relax now that they were taking action.

“A small retinue of soldiers could move more quickly than a large army. He will lead them and take Lady Evelyn to the temple, I will remain behind with the bulk of the force and we will act as a rear guard to keep any… unwanted guests away from them,” the Black Knight said.

“That… I know you’re right, but I don’t like the idea of splitting up. It’s dangerous.” Prince Alfonse worried his lip and shifted on the spot. Zelgius watched as his twin inclined his head, an understanding look on his face. When had he decided he was allowed to behave in such a way? Was he… stepping in to fill the hole he’d left behind? 

“Yes. Every moment we’re here we are in danger, My Lord. But he is correct. Our best hope is to send a small envoy ahead with Lady Evelyn. It would be a gruelling trip, with little downtime,  only enough time to rest the animals. A few hours, at most,” Zelgius said. 

“Then we need to decide who goes with General Zelgius, and when we should split up. I think we should stay together for the time being, at least until we get to an area where sneaking up on you would be nearly impossible.” Anna nodded, her expression determined. She had a good point. There were still some trees for their enemies to use as concealment, but the further north they went, the less lively things would get. It would be difficult for Múspell to hide a large army on the tundra. 

“Then I will accept volunteers that are capable of keeping up. I want no more than a single platoon. Any more than that and we may be slowed by equipment, but too few and we are too vulnerable. We will need an airborne squad as well. Everyone else will need to be capable of moving and fighting in difficult terrain.” 

“I’ll go. You’ll need someone with a knack for tactics and used to dealing with dangerous situations. I’ll round up a few others I know will be good for this,” Robin said. Zelgius nodded, grateful for his professionalism. 

“I will come as well. You’ll need someone who can navigate Nifl’s northern holds, after all. I shall gather a few healers and oversee packing for the trip,” Gunnthrá murmured, following Robin out of the tent, pausing only long enough to squeeze his wrist in reassurance. 

“I’ll rustle up everyone else, you should go rest for a little while General. Maybe take a trip to the sauna. Sweat the stress out,” Anna said, her trademark smile returning to her face. He wanted to return it, but it didn’t feel possible. How could he smile knowing his lady was dying? The sauna  _ did _ sound appealing, though. It couldn’t hurt.

“Very well. I may do that. Thank you, Commander.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’re all worried, and even feel a little responsible. I should have gone to check on her when she didn’t come back from bringing you food last night. There’s no one here that doesn’t feel that way.”

“Seeing you body slam Loki made me feel a little better, though. I can’t believe she could even get up after that!” Sharena said, her fearful expression replaced by one of calm determination. They were feeling hopeful and motivated? That’s good. If they could find that, then he could as well. No. He  _ would _ . He had to. He had to push onwards and get his lady to the temple of Baldr and lay her on the altar, even if it killed him to do so.

“I shall assist in overseeing preparations. You rest. Get your head in the right place.” Zelgius watched as his doppleganger left, holding the tent flap open for princess Sakura before following her out. He hated that he was right. He needed to separate himself from his feelings right now. He needed to forget the feelings of fear and dread and focus only on his duty. If he could do that, they could perhaps pull through. He just needed to remain focused.

***

They could hear their sisters laughing from the cab of the truck, though what they were talking about was lost to the wind. That was fine, though. She didn’t have much interest in whatever they were on about, that nagging feeling was back and stronger than ever. If she could just remember what she was doing last night… that was the key to everything, she was sure. 

“You okay?” She glanced at her brother, smiling reassuringly at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just feel like I’m forgetting something important,” she said. Everett hummed thoughtfully, flicking on the blinker. 

“Well, I’m sure it’ll come to you eventually. Why don’t you run in there and get us a bag of ice and some drinks? I gotta get some gas,” Everett said, digging out a twenty dollar bill. “You get the next round.”

“Yeah, no problem. What do you want to drink? I’m gonna get us some water, but anything else?”

“Coke, I guess. You know I ain’t picky.” Evelyn nodded and slid out of the truck, nearly falling when she misjudged the drop. She didn’t remember the truck being that high off the ground, but who could really say? The day had already been odd enough that she wondered if she’d lost her mind.

“Girls, what do you want to drink?” She waited for a moment before frowning at their lack of response. They didn’t even bother looking at her. “Alrighty then, I’ll just get you whatever, then. Little shits.” She strode away, her hangover making her more irritable than she normally would be. 

She pushed the door open and was greeted by the dull chime of a cowbell above the door. She didn’t want to take too long, but there was something compelling her to linger near the door. She glanced at the clerk behind the counter and froze. The man was tall. Taller than anyone she’d ever seen in person and built like a brick shithouse. He smiled at her, his pretty lips curving up in a sweet, gentle kind of way, his green eyes crinkling handsomely at the corners.

“Good morning. How are you?” His voice was warm and smooth, but more than that, it was  _ familiar _ .  **He** was familiar. She knew this man from somewhere. She winced as her head twinged a bit, but she ignored it in favor of looking at the beautiful man and admiring his rich, indigo hair. It made her wonder where he got his hair done. She’d never seen such a pretty color come from a box.

“I’m just fine, honey. How about yourself?” 

“Well enough. Especially now. Is there anything I can help you with?” He asked, his voice dipping lower, the tone becoming husky. She could feel her cheeks growing warmer as she looked at him. Where did she know him from? Why did she want to drop everything and spend the day with him instead? 

“Nah, hon. I’m just gonna grab some drinks and get on my way.” Her headache subsided slightly as she scooped up a pack of bottled water and moved to the coolers.

“Here, let me help you with that.” She gasped as she felt a strong body press against her back and large, warm hands cover hers. She knew this body. She knew his hands, and the smell of his cologne. It smelled like vanilla and tobacco, like her uncle used to smoke. Under that, was the sweet, musky smell of his skin. She allowed him to take the pack of water and turned to face him, feeling perfectly comfortable trapped between him and his burden. He felt safe and reassuring. It felt like if she were to go with him, she’d be on the right track to remembering what was so important.

“Why do I feel like we know each other?” She asked, her hands finding his arms on reflex. 

“Maybe I just have one of those faces,” he teased. She snorted and shook her head, resisting the urge to lean into him more solidly. This man most certainly did  _ not _ have one of ‘those faces.’ He had the kind of face that only one in a million people could hope to be blessed with. He looked like he’d be more at home on the cover of a magazine than in a dingy little convenience store. “Let’s get this to the counter. Do you need anything else?” His mouth on hers would be a good place to start. She’d never wanted to kiss someone more than she wanted to kiss him right then. 

“Maybe dinner and a movie? We could meet somewhere later today.” He chuckled lightly, his green eyes lighting up with mirth. It was almost gross how handsome he was. 

“That… sounds lovely.” He disengaged and carried the water away, leaving her reeling in his absence. How had he gotten to her so quickly? Long legs could explain a lot, but certainly not everything. She shook her head and turned back towards the coolers, grabbing whatever soda she saw first. They could just deal with what she got them. She was still pleasantly lightheaded after being so close to him. 

“So uh, what’s your name honey?”

“Zelgius.” What sort of name was that? Was it Greek, maybe? He extended his hand over the counter and she took it without hesitation.

“It’s nice to meet you, Zelgius. I’m Evelyn.” His name felt so familiar, like she’d spoken it hundreds of times. 

“The pleasure is mine.” He brushed his lips across her knuckles. “What time would you like to meet today?” 

She considered it, looking out the glass doors at the truck. Everett was still pumping gas, so she’d not wasted as much time as she’d thought. They probably wouldn’t be gone too long. Everett had said they’d only be gone a few hours earlier that morning, and he probably wouldn’t mind getting back to Sadie. It was a wonder that boy still hadn’t popped the question.

“Maybe around five? Can I get your number, honey? That way I can let you know exactly when?” 

“Certainly.” She watched as he jotted down the number for her, which she immediately put into her cellphone. She didn’t want to risk it getting wet by the river. She sent him a short text so that he could do the same. She grinned at him as she slid the twenty across the counter, her fingers trailing over the back of his hand.

“I’ll need a bag of ice, too Darlin’,” she said. He nodded and added it to her total, handing her the change with a wink. “Thanks. I’ll be seeing you this evening then. Come here.” He obliged and leaned across the counter, allowing her to press a kiss to his cheek. This close, she could hear his breathing and see the silver strands flecked throughout his hair. Kissing him felt natural. Everything about him was familiar and correct. She knew this man, and she would find out how, no matter what she had to do to manage it.

***

Zelgius took a seat at her bedside, gazing at her sallow skin and matted ginger hair with shame. She really did look small when she was like this. He took one of her hands carefully, studying the fine bones of her fingers for lack of anything better to do. He didn’t have long to sit with her, they’d only allowed him to do so because he was so distressed; but they would come to kick him out soon enough. With that in mind, he forced himself to look at her face.

If he tried, he could pretend she were only asleep and would wake any moment, her hazel eyes warm and full of affection. He was a fool. He’d been so alone for so long, and then he met her. She was warm and kind, she  _ cared _ , she was patient. In her, he’d found a kindred spirit. She had offered him the world and he refused her. He spat venom and lies at her, he made her cry. He’d thrown away his chance at the beautiful life he’d always wanted for himself because he was afraid; so afraid he wasn’t even willing to  _ try _ .

He didn’t deserve her or her love, but… but she  _ wanted _ him. He couldn’t understand how or why, but she’d said she did; or at least, he assumed that was what she had meant. He wanted her. He wanted to take back the past month and all the time he’d wasted trying to deny the inevitable. There was never a chance to resist, not really. He’d been stupid to even try. He should have thrown himself at her feet and thanked her for caring about such a worthless wretch. If she gave the chance, he would. He would spend the rest of his days trying to make up for his hubris.

He leaned forward to press his lips against her cheek before resting his forehead against hers, his fingers lacing with hers. There was so much he longed to say, and so many things he wanted to do. He missed the way it felt to sleep at her side. If she would allow him another chance, he would never throw away the gift of her love again.

“Please… please don’t leave me...” his voice was a strained whisper as he allowed his head to rest against her chest, taking comfort in the sound of her heart and breathing, “I love you so.” He knew she couldn’t hear him; that was probably what allowed him to say those words in the first place. He'd never spoken them aloud in his adult life, but if she would give him the chance, he would say them as many times as she wanted. 

“General Zelgius?” He straightened as Wrys came back, his wizened voice soft and apologetic.

“Is it time already?” He felt as though he’d only just gotten there, but the healers had an important duty to do. He didn’t want to get in the way of it.

“I’m afraid so, dear boy.” The man’s gaze was soft, caring. Zelgius relaxed his shoulders and brushed a kiss against her forehead and each of her knuckles before rising to his feet, maneuvering carefully around the old cleric.

“Thank you, Father Wrys. I appreciate this.” 

“There’s no need to thank me, my boy. I understand. You should get some rest, would you like something that will help calm you?” Wrys asked. Zelgius considered it a moment before nodding hesitantly. He would not rest much if he didn’t accept help, and he needed to be well rested for what would come.

“Very well. I’ll get you something,” he rummaged around in one of the bins squinting at the packages there a moment before picking one, ‘here we are. Drink this before you go to bed tonight.” 

“Thank you. Have a good evening, Father.”

“And you as well, my boy.” 

***

Evelyn watched as houses and trees flew past the window as Everett fussed with the tape deck. The wind whipped her hair around wildly as Stevie Ray Vaughan wailed from the truck’s ancient speakers. If one of their younger sisters were in the cab with them, she knew they’d whine about Everett’s “old man” music, but it wasn’t like they could listen to whatever trash they were calling music anyway; this truck hadn’t picked up a radio station reliably since 1996. 

“You sure were grinning like a fool when you came out of the store. What happened in there anyway?” Everett asked, pulling off the main road and onto the dirt and gravel trail that would bring them down to their preferred spot. 

“Oh, I just met someone. He was sweet.” 

“Oh?” Her brother sounded surprised. “It wasn’t the usual guy? You know the cranky old bastard that’s usually in there?” 

“No, it was a younger guy. Probably around our age. Gorgeous. We’re probably going to meet up this evening for a little while,” she said. Everett stopped the truck a little harder than normal, killing the engine before turning to her. She froze as for the briefest moment, the world around her seemed to wobble and fade, like it were only a mirage; her brother’s kind face was replaced by something else, something she couldn’t comprehend, but it was over as soon as it had begun. She could feel herself shaking in the aftermath, but tried to compose herself. She didn’t need anyone to question her sanity.

“Damn it, Evelyn. You’re supposed to be spending time with your family, not running around with men like some kind of cheap whore. Can’t you keep it in your damn pants for a day?” Everett shook his head and opened the door, stepping out and slamming the door. “Get the cooler.” Evelyn sat there, shocked and confused. Everett would  _ never _ talk to her like that. She took a deep breath and gripped the cooler handle, opening the door. She needed to think through this carefully. She had enough evidence now to be certain that something was very,  _ very _ wrong. The stove, the counters, the kitchen, her drunkard father’s absence, Everett’s unusual temper…  _ whatever _ she’d just seen… it all told her what she’d already known, but had been too muddled to understand: this was an illusion or some kind of dream.

She jumped as her phone rang. Everett turned to look at her in confusion, his mouth drawn into a severe line. She laughed and put the cooler down at her feet.

“It’s mama. Let me just see what she needs.” He nodded and took the fishing gear down to the water’s edge, their sisters in tow. “Hey mama, what’s going on?”

“I see you’ve finally come to your senses,” Zelgius said. She still didn’t know how or why she knew him, there were things she didn’t remember just yet, but what she  _ did _ know was that he was safe and everyone else was  **not** . 

“Yeah?” She would keep up the act. They didn’t need to know she wasn’t speaking with their “mother.” 

“You need to get away from them. Come back to where we met. I’ll explain what I can, but you must hurry. It’s not safe, and they’ll catch on to you soon. Run and don’t stop. Go. Now.” 

She didn’t need to be told twice. She ran as hard and fast as she could, disappearing into the thick trees before whoever she was actually with could even tell she had done so. She kept her head down, weaving between trunks and under branches, too afraid to look back. She knew if she just kept heading in this direction, she’d make it back to the store, but it was a fair distance. 

“You’re going to be okay. You have more power here than you know.” She’d forgotten she was still on the line with him in her haste. She’d not bothered to put her phone away or even lower it from her ear. She was happy he was still with her.

“What--” she ducked under a fallen log, swiping spiderwebs out of her face “do you even mean?” 

“I’ll explain when we have time. For now, just concentrate on my voice and don’t think about anything else. You’re going to be okay,” he said. She trusted him. She wanted to be where he was. He was safe. 

She shrieked as she felt a cold hand wrap around her neck, the strength of its grip stopping her dead in her tracks, lifting her off the ground. Her phone fell from her hand as she felt all of her strength leave her, the world going dark. 

_ “And we tried so hard to give you what you wanted.” _


	14. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order is moving towards their destination quickly and is approached by someone unexpected while Evelyn finds her answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long since the last update, and I was doing so well too. Holiday stuff got in the way and my hand isn't doing so hot right now, so I can't really type for long periods of time right now. Hopefully it'll relax and I can get started on the next chapter soon because I really am excited for this portion of the story. I have a feeling the next chapter is going to be a long one, so it might be a while before it's ready.
> 
> I hope everyone had a happy holiday season and that you're all in good health. Let me know how I'm doing, and as always, thank you for reading.

There was a familiar, rough texture against her cheek as her eyes worked themselves open. Her head throbbed dully as she forced herself to sit up straight at the table, cursing the shaft of sunlight that beamed through the kitchen window. It was silent, but that wasn't unusual. She peered at the digital display on the stove, its red LED clock telling her it was 8:15. How much had she had to drink the night before? Where the hell had she even been, and how did she even get home? She rubbed at her eyes as a stab of pain shot through them, groaning miserably. She had to stop drinking like that, it was a terrible idea. 

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Everett’s voice was still groggy, but she could practically hear the shit eating grin on his face.

“Make yourself useful for once and make some coffee,” she grunted. Her brother snorted, but padded his way into the kitchen, nudging her playfully on his way by.

“So, I don’t reckon you have anything important to do today do you?” Everett asked, measuring out coffee grounds.

“I…” Did she?  Wait… yes, she was fairly sure she had something planned. She didn’t know what, but she knew that she was doing something. “I think I’m doing something this afternoon… around five? I need to check. Why?”

“Well, I was thinkin’ we could take the girls down to the river. They pestered me about it all night last night. Whatcha think?” Evelyn pressed her finger tips against her aching eyes as she considered his proposition. She didn’t really feel like going down to the river, but she couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. She’d done more on worse hangovers, after all; but something just didn’t sit well with her. Something happened at the river last time she was there… was that where she’d been last night? 

“Well, I don’t see any reason not to...” she knew she didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic, but surely he could understand that. How many times had she had to drag him around while he was feeling like this? More than the other way around, that much she could say with certainty.

“It’ll be fun, Evie. That’s just the liquor talking,” Everett said, his tone gentle, but oddly condescending. 

“You’re probably right. How’s the weather gonna be?”

“Weatherman says sunny, but we know how fast that can change. Shouldn’t be a problem though, high’s 92.” So, good weather for playing in the water and fishing. It was odd that he hadn’t mentioned any of their friends. Neither of them ever really liked being stuck somewhere with their sisters with no one else around. They got irritating real quick.

The coffee pot sputtered and gurgled as moments passed, Everett’s fingers drumming on the countertop the only other sound in the house. She took that moment to look around, frowning at the mess she saw. What the hell had they all been up to while she was gone? The cupboards were all thrown open, and the sink was full of dishes. Their mother would never allow something like that. She wanted to clean it all so badly, but she still felt a little too dizzy to stand up.

“What’re you staring at? You look confused,” Everett asked. 

“This fuckin’ mess. What the hell happened last night?”

“Oh, Mama had a few friends over and things got a little rowdy is all. She said not to worry about the mess, she’ll clean it up later.” Her brother shrugged, his roguish grin setting her teeth on edge. Their very quiet, very Catholic mother got rowdy? Since when? Why couldn’t she remember anything?  _ What in the hell was going on _ ? “Coffee’s ready. Why don’t you stop mad doggin’ me and get you a cup? It’ll help you sober up.”

She huffed and rose to her feet, snatching a mug out of the cabinet. She wanted to go lay down. She didn’t want to spend the morning with anyone, she just wanted to get some rest and try to remember what was going on. What did she have planned, where was she last night, and why did she feel such a deep sense of dread when she thought about going down to the river?

“You okay? You’re being awful grouchy. You should go take a shower after your coffee, I’ll cook us some breakfast.”

“I’m really not hungry, Bub. I think I might sit this trip out… I don’t feel so great.”

“Well, that’s okay I reckon. We can always do it tomorrow. It ain’t gonna kill them to wait a day,” Everett said, smiling affectionately at her. “You go rest, hon. Here--” he pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, passing it to her. “I’ll take that coffee from you, you drink that and take something for the aches.” 

“Thanks. I’ll see you after a while.”

***

Zelgius rolled his shoulders, wincing at the way they ached. He’d not slept much the night before, and what little he did get was fitful and easily disturbed by any and all noise; but worse than that was the crushing guilt he felt. He’d thought about Evelyn and the hateful things he’d said to her all night, but as the sun began to make itself known beyond the horizon, his mind turned to Nino. He was no better than the terrible woman that she called her mother. He’d abandoned her, and for what? To wallow in his own misery and pick open old wounds? He was a pathetic creature. He covered his face with his hands and groaned miserably, trying to work the lump forming in his throat away. 

He swiped at the tears that managed to sneak through his control, swearing quietly as he took a deep breath. He had thought that he’d outgrown crying, or at least that he was no longer capable of doing so. He’d not cried when Gawain left him behind, nor had he cried when She did the same. He’d heard many say that a man that would cry was weak and pitiful, but… somehow he felt that was a gross oversimplification. He’d seen many strong people cry, and they were no weaker for their tears. If anything, he felt far weaker than any of them. They could express themselves so much clearer than he could, and they could laugh and smile so much easier. He’d learned long ago that strength was more than just a physical trait. He sighed as the feeling passed, staring at his palms as his hands fell to his lap. 

He had no time for tears right now. Tears were for those that were worthy of them, who’s feelings mattered. He’d given up his chance to matter when he’d thrown away Evelyn’s love and abandoned Nino. He wouldn’t burden either of them with his worthless words, or impose himself on them; all he could do was apologize for everything and hope that they would at least move on without hating him too much. He’d been hated by so many for so long… all he wanted was to die knowing there had been a time when he’d been seen in a kinder light. At least here society itself wouldn’t be hostile to him. They knew nothing of the branded here, nor would they hate him for an arbitrary accident of birth. At least here, if he survived, he would be judged on his merits alone. He could live a lie and go back to a privileged life where he wanted for nothing, but… would she forgive him and live that life with him?

Zelgius sighed and kneaded at the back of his neck, wincing again. It was far too soon to worry about that right now. At this very moment, he needed to prepare for a long, hard march through difficult terrain. His armor would slow him and his horse was likely to struggle, strong and nimble though he was. It would be stressful, and they were more than likely to find themselves butting up against Múspell or Emblian forces. He needed to clear his mind now and be prepared to cut a path forward. They had no other choice but to succeed and he would do all within his power to ensure that his beloved arrived to her destination on time.

***

She woke with a start, sweating and heaving for breath. The dream had been so real,  _ too _ real. She saw Everett, his lifeless eyes staring up at her from a bathtub, the scene around him gorey and silent. She swung herself up as a wave of nausea hit her, but was helpless as she fell to her knees and heaved. She stared down at the thick, black sludge that had practically crawled its way up from her stomach, the bitter smell of it almost making her wretch again. She was no expert, but that probably wasn’t a good thing. She hauled herself to her feet, clutching her head as she swooned on the spot. In that moment, she remembered something: she needed to go to a convenience store. She didn’t know why, but she needed to. Something important was there.

She couldn’t go like this… and she needed to go alone, and she needed to go quickly. She righted herself and rushed to the bathroom, but found herself staring instead into a linen closet. They didn’t have a linen closet. This house was barely big enough for all of them, the girls had been whining about sharing their little bedroom for years. She backed away, her heart pounding as things seemed to flicker around her before righting themselves; the bathroom cool and inviting in front of her. Something was wrong and she needed to go now, a sweating mess or not. 

“ _ Evelyn _ ?” She froze at the sound of her brother’s voice. It was… wrong. Scratchy and distorted, like she was hearing it through a phone with bad reception. It was far enough away that she knew he was in the kitchen, but how long he would stay there was another story. “ _ Are you okay, Evelyn?”  _ Footsteps that sounded too big and heavy for her brother creaked on the floor below her, a scraping sound following it. She took a step backwards, and then another, before launching herself back into her bedroom. She closed the door carefully before making her way to the window and peering outside. 

The sky blazed a bloody red, the sun seemingly oozing into it like an open sore; the trees stood against that harsh sky, burnt and twisted into unnatural shapes. She saw nothing in the yard, and so she carefully opened the window, and was surprised to be greeted by a blast of cold air.

“ _ Evelyn? You’re not thinking about being ungrateful again, are you? _ ” She said nothing as she slipped out the window and willed herself to move. She landed with a soft thump, finding the ground beneath her feet strangely springy and damp. She gave herself no time to consider why, or what was happening, she simply ran. She charged across the lawn towards the pasture, scrambling over the gate and darted around the barn. She knew where she needed to go, and she knew the quickest way to get there, she just had to make sure that she did it this time. Whatever was behind her was trying to stop her, maybe even hurt her; what lay ahead had answers. She just had to get there. She  _ would _ get there. She couldn’t afford not to.  _ Just run and don’t look back.  _

She could hear branches snapping behind her, but they were far behind her by now. She seemed to be pulling further and further ahead every moment and the sound of her pursuer faded into the ambiance of the wilderness. Trees gave way to asphalt much faster than should ever be possible, regardless of how quickly she ran, but she didn’t have time to think about that. She saw the outline of her destination just ahead and she was very aware of something… several somethings, in fact, nearby. She didn’t dare look as something moved towards her, she just put her head down and willed herself to run faster. Her whole body ached, her knee especially, but it didn’t matter. She put her hands out in front of her and pushed the door open, all but falling to the floor as it closed behind her.

“Evelyn?” She looked up, wheezing as she attempted to get her breathing back under control. It had been a long time since she’d had to run like that, but now that she was here, she could afford to take a little break. She watched as the man behind the counter came around to kneel in front of her, his green eyes full of concern as he looked her over.

“Hey there, Darlin’,” she panted, trying her best to grin at him. Zelgius gave her a wobbly smile of his own before looking out the glass door behind her. 

“I was concerned when you didn’t arrive earlier. I assume they caught you.”

“I guess so… I don’t really know who  _ they _ are.” She shifted to sit on the floor, her back pressing against the brick wall nearby. It felt nice and solid, but more than that, it was cool.

“I… yes. I suppose this needs a bit of explaining, doesn’t it?” Zelgius joined her on the floor, draping his arm around her shoulder as she leaned into his side. She didn’t remember  _ everything _ , but she remembered enough to know that she loved this man. She remembered meeting him, she remembered holding him, she remembered his laugh. She remembered that she was doing something very, very important, and that he was there to help. She was tired and sore and just wanted to stay with him for a little while, because she also remembered that something had happened between them that made her heart hurt.

“Yeah… I guess it does. You aren’t really Zelgius, are you?” 

“No, I am not.” She didn’t think so, but in the end she supposed it didn’t really matter. “None of what you see here is real, not in the way that you understand the word.”

“Are you like those things out there?”

“No. I’m here to help you, they are here to impede you. They can’t harm you physically, nothing here could, but they can halt your progress… and you really don’t have that much time, I’m afraid.” He gave her a squeeze, but didn’t shift away. He seemed to know what she wanted from him without her telling him, and it was a nice change. 

“What is this place?” 

“It’s… a place in between. This world is dangerous, but it is shaped by you. Everything you think or desire will take form here. I am an example of that. This person puts you at ease, so I took on this appearance,” he said. Evelyn sighed as she rested her head against the wall, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. 

“I’m not dead am I?”

“No, you’re not. You’re… in between. I’m sorry that this has happened to you. Normally it would have been explained, but you were not given that courtesy.”

“Who are you really?” Evelyn asked. He looked like Zelgius. He sounded and smelled like Zelgius. He was big and warm and safe like Zelgius, but he wasn’t him. 

“My name is Baldr, and we need to speak… but first, you have to find your way out of here,” he said. 

“And how am I supposed to do that? I don’t even know where  _ here _ is. You say some cryptic shit and expect me to just…  _ understand _ ? I don’t know why I’m here, who you are, why you look like  _ that _ , or what happened to me and honestly I’m feeling a little stressed out right now.” She took a steadying breath and turned to face Baldr fully, frowning as she swept her gaze over his face. Now that she was starting to remember, it was easy to tell that this wasn’t actually Zelgius. He looked close enough, but the shade of his eyes was just a touch too dark. 

“I can imagine, but I can’t explain too much or else it’s not much of a test, and it wouldn’t be fair for me to give you all the answers, even if your being here was unexpected for you. Come, I’ll tell you what I can,” he said, hauling her to her feet. She grumbled and shoved her hands into her pockets, following after him. She didn’t like being touched by him. “Do you remember drinking something unpleasant?” 

“I…? I think so. Something bitter?” Yes… she did remember something bitter. It smelled and tasted like what she threw up earlier. “I threw something black and slimy up earlier. What was that?” 

“Mistletoe. Well, Mistletoe and what was most likely mugwort. It’s a mild poison, but strong enough to bring you to this realm. The vomiting was likely your own subconscious attempts to expel it.” So she’d been poisoned… but wh-- oh. Oh that’s right. Gunnthrá brought her that tea, after she and Zelgius had a that very unpleasant interaction. She remembered now. They’d been heading north, and Gunnthrá had mentioned that it was important that they follow her instincts on the matter.

“Why do I need to be here?” She didn’t have time to worry about why Gunnthrá had done this, she would deal with that once she woke up.

“To speak with me. I cannot interact with you or your world anymore… I am… dead, for a lack of better word. You had to come to me since I couldn’t come to you.”

“Well we’re talking now, ain’t we? Why be so vague?” She was beginning to get annoyed, but she tamped down on it. Yelling and swearing at him wouldn’t help, and she didn’t want to while he looked like that anyway. It would feel too much like yelling at Zelgius and she didn’t like doing that, no matter how mad she was. It always left her feeling bitter and terrible.

“We are speaking over a great distance and what I must do can’t be done from here. I’ll give you the power to defeat your foes, but you must make your way to me. This is like… talking over the phone, to put it in terms you’d understand. You can’t give someone something over the phone, you have to meet up.” He lead her towards the back of the building and into the cramped manager’s office, where he then dug around in the closet. She watched as he placed a flashlight, a knife, and a canteen on the desk between them. She arched her eyebrow in silent inquiry, taking a seat in the chair nearby. “Well it’s not as though I can simply will you here. You’ll have to navigate your way out of this lovely little hell you’ve made for yourself, my dear.”

“Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?  _ It’s dangerous to go alone, take this _ .” 

“No, I’m afraid not. All summoners before you have had to do this, and now so will you. Everyone has something that keeps them from moving forward and reaching their goals, you’re no different. Work through it. Take one of these items with you.”

“How am I supposed to know what I need?” She asked. She didn’t like the idea of going out there. 

“You have to trust yourself. What do  _ you  _ think you need? This world was forged by your experiences and changes on your whims. Why else do you think you managed to make it here so quickly? Or at all, for that matter.”

Evelyn looked at the three things he’d put on the table. Water was important, but this world wasn’t real. She didn’t need to eat or drink, it would only be dead weight. A knife was a weapon and held utility, but she’d have to get very close to use it. She didn’t want to get into that kind of situation if she could avoid it… but the light felt necessary. It looked dark out there, and if she couldn’t see, she couldn’t stab anything anyway. It looked fairly heavy, so it could be a club if need be. Yes. The flashlight would be best. She reached out and took it in her hand, feeling confident as she clicked it on and back off again. 

“You’re more decisive than the last. Your predecessor took forever to choose,” Baldr sounded pleased, but really it wasn’t much of a decision. Her instincts had always been what she relied on, and they’d mostly served her well. He motioned for her to follow him, and so she did. She didn’t have much choice in the matter anyway. “When you step out this door, you will be alone. I won’t be able to help you, nor will I be able to hear you. Keep this in mind: no matter who you see out there, it isn’t real. They are a trick of this world; a mirage created by your own desires, and they want to trap you here. If you spend too long in this place, you will become part of it. You will be unable to either wake up and rejoin the living or move on with the dead. Do you understand?” 

“Yeah… I get it. Don’t talk to anyone.”

“You’ll likely be  _ forced _ to talk to someone, but you can’t linger; no matter how badly you may wish to talk with them forever. Many have fallen victim to that. They aren’t real and they aren’t your friends.” Baldr fixed her with a stern look before placing his hand on her back to push her towards the door. “I’ll see you on the other side, my dear. I have faith in you, and the man whose face I borrow does as well. Have faith in yourself now and let’s get this done.”

She nodded and turned away, taking a deep breath as she reached to push the fire door open. She didn’t have time to second guess herself or worry about what would happen next. She just needed to move forward and deal with whatever happened next. She could do this. Everything would be fine. 

***

He watched the gliding of his whetstone over Alondite’s edge, bringing it back to the deadly sharpness it would need going forward. While that fool carried their lady towards her destination, he would remain behind to guard their backs. He had a sense that things could go badly… and… if they did, she would need at least one of them alive; why not the one she loved? He suspected that she simply didn’t feel the way about him as she did for the other, and… as much as it hurt, it was only natural. He still had growing to do, walls to let down. As much as he loved her, he couldn’t fathom telling her any of the things that had dictated his life up until that point. He loved her enough to surrender to the other one and let her be happy. It was easy to find it in himself to be happy for her. He only hoped that idiot didn’t ruin things.

“E-excuse me? General Zelgius?” He tensed and glanced over his shoulder at the young girl standing shyly nearby. Her messy blond hair and wide green eyes made him think of happier times. 

“What is it?” Surely she was looking for the other one. He’d never let any of these people think him approachable. He preferred to simply remain in the background and speak to no one save Evelyn. 

“E-er, well… um… I was hoping that you could help me um… practice a little. I’m feeling very antsy.” She stared down at her feet as she spoke, her nervous stammering barely audible.

“Do you not have other people who can help you, girl?” He knew he sounded harsh, especially when compared to the other one, who no longer bothered to hide his nature, but he’d been keeping up this little act for so long now that it seemed silly to just drop it. 

“W-well, I uh… I guess I could ask Lord Hector, but he’s busy with his own training right now, and you’re so strong… I just… please Sir, I want to learn from the best!” she said, bowing her head respectfully. 

“What’s your name girl?” Normally he would say no outright and send her away, but he needed something to distract him from his own thoughts. This could be the exact thing he needed.

“Amelia, Sir.” He rose to his feet, allowing himself to study her at length. She was a small thing, but what little he’d seen of her over the months made him confident she was capable. He didn’t feel she would be a waste of his time, at least.

“Very well, Amelia. I will train with you. I am not going to be gentle, nor will I treat you as though you are special. If you wish to learn something from me, then you will work for it. Is that acceptable?” He asked. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before her gaze grew determined. 

“Yes Sir. I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she said. Good. She would be a worthwhile endeavor. 

“Then let’s go, girl. You’ll not learn anything standing here.” She trotted alongside him, her short legs making it difficult to keep up with his much longer stride. He slowed down for her, allowing her to walk beside him instead. Even after all these years, he still sometimes forgot that he was so much taller than almost everyone else, though low hanging lanterns and door frames tended to remind him quickly.

“Um…”

“What?” He glanced down at her, watching the way she fidgeted. He used to be that way, too. When he was just a scrawny, underfed child. Gawain had plucked him out of his training group because he’d been the quickest learner and the most willing to follow orders, and he’d been so very nervous and eager to please. ‘ _ Don’t waste my time, boy _ .’ He’d heard those words almost every day. 

“Do you think Evelyn will be okay?” She asked. He grit his teeth and stared straight ahead. He didn’t want to talk about this. He wasn’t here to soothe her anxieties. She wanted to learn from him and he would teach her. That was all. 

“Keep your mind on the task at hand, girl. We can’t control what happens, only what we do in response,” he said, perhaps a little too harshly. Amelia squeaked and shrunk away, averting her eyes. It was better that way. He couldn’t let anyone become attached to him. They would all go their separate ways eventually, and he didn’t need to miss anyone else when the time came.

“Sorry! I’m just… scared.”

“Fear is a natural response. It will keep you alive, but now isn’t the time. Share your fears with your friends later.” He hoped she had someone she could speak to. It was hard to young and lonely, but he simply wasn’t the one to lean on. Perhaps the other one could help her, but he just wasn’t there yet. He wasn’t ready.

“Yes Sir.” She seemed disappointed, but didn’t argue with him. It was best this way. He’d always been better off alone, and that would always be the truth, no matter how much he wished to the contrary. This was his role, and he would play it.

***

It was a good thing she’d chosen the flashlight. She’d stepped out of the well lit safe haven of the convenience store and into a dark, cool room full of what looked to be medical equipment. She peered into a box nearby and frowned at the stethoscopes and other miscellaneous items held within before shining her light around herself. Yes, this definitely seemed to be a room full of old medical equipment, though she couldn’t guess why she would be somewhere like this. What about her experiences would put her… oh. This was a hospital, of course. If she had to guess, this was a replica of Hazard ARH. She’d spent more time than she’d wanted to here over the years.

She could hear…  _ something _ above her, though she couldn’t say exactly what. Probably nothing good, but she wouldn’t get anywhere if she just stayed where she was, and Baldr had said that if she stayed too long, she’d end up trapped. Carefully, so as not to disturb any of the piles of junk lying around, she made her way to the door at the top of the stairs. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the doorknob and twisted it, shining her light both ways into the long corridor. It was empty, for now, but she had no idea where to go. She’d never been to the service levels of the hospital, but surely there was something nearby that would help her. She weighed her options and turned left, sticking close to the wall as she listened to the ambient noises of the hospital. She was pretty sure she could hear water in the pipes and a gurney or something rolling on the floor above. Would she step out into a normal looking place once she was out of here? She hoped so. Baldr had said that this place was shaped by her desires, so if she just wished hard enough, maybe things would be easy for her.

She jumped as she heard a loud bang behind her, something like a door being slammed open. She glanced behind her, but didn’t stop moving. Whatever it was, she’d yet to see it, but she could  _ hear _ it. It sounded heavy, not unlike “Everett” had, but squishy somehow. She didn’t like the sound. Her flashlight caught a placard on the wall, pointing her towards the elevator and stairs. Which one would be safest? The stairs could take her longer, but she wouldn’t be quite as trapped should she need to get away from something. She bypassed the elevator and pushed the door to the stairs open, finding the place well lit. She turned off her flashlight and hurried up the stairs, stifling a gasp as the door below flung open. She didn’t look. She couldn't. If she stayed to look, whatever that was would have time to catch up. She kept her eyes forward and moved quickly, trying her best to remain quiet as she did so. She reached a landing and quickly read the sign by the door, but that wasn’t the right one. She wanted to go to the lobby, that door would lead to billing. Dealing with a hospital’s office was more terrifying than whatever was following after her.

Up two more levels, and she found the right door. The lobby looked much like she remembered it. It was lit with harsh, artificial lights and smelled like fake vanilla, but it was mostly empty save the receptionist. She took a deep breath and made her way to the desk, feeling immediately put off by the woman behind it. She was suspiciously gray in the face and eyed her with a distinct kind of disinterest. She looked about how Evelyn had always felt about being in a hospital.

“Can I help you?” The woman asked, her tone a sickening kind of politeness; the kind that was dishonest. It was how she herself spoke to customers when they came in right before closing.

“I’m… here to see someone. Liam Malone?” She supposed that’s what she was here to do. It made the most sense to her, at least. Why else would she be here, in this hospital specifically?

“Room 302. Do you need directions?”

“No, thank you. I’ve got it.” She’d been to her father’s room enough to know where he was. She didn’t really need to ask, but she did so out of habit. It was expected that you ask. She hit the call button on the elevator and was pleased to see that it was already there, waiting for her. She hit the button for the third floor, and as the doors slid closed, the door from the stairwell slammed open. She caught only a glimpse of the black mass that made its way through the door before she was stuck in the elevator alone, trembling and wheezing. She didn’t want to see it again, but she had a feeling that she would. She just hoped it wouldn’t be waiting for her when she got upstairs. She wasn’t sure her heart could take the surprise.

She heard nothing out of the ordinary as she waited, but when the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she found herself uneasy. The lights flickered, not unlike they would if there was a fault somewhere. She saw a small group of familiar people standing outside of room 302. Her family waited silently, many of them turned away from her, or weeping quietly into their hands. She didn’t like that she couldn’t see their faces, but she didn’t want to stay here too long. She couldn’t linger, is what she’d been told, and whatever was behind her was definitely still coming. She had to keep going. She pushed her way into the room and saw a familiar sight. Her father lay in his bed, machines beeping quietly as he slowly wasted away. 

She took a seat in the chair nearby, looking down at him impassively. After all this time, she was still mad at him. She was past wanting to scream and shake him, but now she just felt cold when she looked at him like this. She missed him, but she hated him in the same breath. No… she didn’t hate  _ him _ , she hated the choices he made. She hated that he chose to drink himself to death instead of trying to learn something new. She hated that he died before he could see her graduate high school, or college. She hated that she’d never hear him crooning an old Bill Monroe song on the porch again, or that she’d never see he and her mother smile lovingly across the table at each other. She’d loved seeing them happy together when she was young. She’d wanted that happiness for herself one day. They really had loved each other. It was the only reason her mother hadn’t turned him out when he turned to the bottle. 

“Here to lecture me again, Honey Bee?” Her father’s voice was weak and frail, but there was the same note of playfulness she was used to. He always managed to smile, even when things were at their worst. It was a trait her brother had picked up from him. She’d always been jealous of it. 

“Like it would do any good now. Way too late for that,” she said. 

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because I have to be, I reckon. I’m still mad,” she said. Her father sighed heavily, looking miserably at her from his bed. 

“Have a little sympathy, Evelyn. It’s been a hard run for your old man.” Evelyn’s lip curled in distaste, that old anger sparking into a slow moving blaze. 

“You used up all my sympathy. I didn’t even get to be a damn kid because I had to raise yours! I was twelve! You disappeared into a goddamn bottle and left us to deal with the fallout. Mama was never around because she had to work so hard just to keep a roof over our heads!  _ Your _ head! You could have done anything and it would have been better than this!”

“You didn’t have to do anything. Your mother was an adult and capable of doing  what she had to, Evelyn,” her father said. She glared, the desire to put a pillow over his stupid face and smother him growing by the second. 

“Oh sure, I could have just ignored all the problems we were having and left mama to deal with it all by herself, but she had more than enough on her plate. Nah, you don’t get to pretend like you didn’t fuck us all over.”

“I didn’t do it because I meant to, I was havin’ a hard time!”

“ **We were all having a hard time.** Mama was having a hard time! Your fucking kids were having a hard time! I don’t give a damn what you  _ meant _ to do, that don’t mean anything now. What you did was sit in that fucking chair every day, piss drunk and belligerent. You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to be useful to anyone,” she could feel herself beginning to shake now. He was testing the limits of her temper.

“I never hurt any of you!”

“You never  _ hit _ any of us. Hurtin’ people’s damn easy, daddy. All that awful shit you said to us hurt. I don’t give a damn that you were drunk, I don’t care that you couldn’t remember in the morning, I don’t care about  _ anything _ you’ve got to say. I heard your excuses every day and I’m sick and tired of them.”

“Forgiveness is divine, Evelyn.” 

“I can’t. I can’t forgive you because  _ you _ ain’t sorry,”she said. That was the root of it all, wasn’t it? She held onto her anger because ultimately, her father died giving excuses and trying to guilt her into submission. He never apologized or admitted that he was wrong. He just killed himself slowly and ruined her family in the process. She rose to her feet, tucking her hands into her pockets. There was no reason to stay here, he’d never change, and she’d never change her mind about him. There was no reason to feel guilty over this anymore. 

“I’m your father, Evelyn. Don’t you have any love for me?”

“I do, but I ain’t obligated to give you something you haven’t earned. Goodbye, daddy.” She loved her father, but that didn’t mean she had to forgive him. It was okay that things were complicated and messy, that’s just how life is.

She froze as her hand touched the doorknob, a heavy, slimy sound behind her causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. It had been in the room with her and her father the whole time. She took a deep breath and turned the knob, ignoring the gross shifting sound behind her. The elevator wasn’t far. She could do this.  _ She could do this _ . 

She flung the door open and sprinted, swatting away the hands that tried to grab her, her flashlight slamming into one solid body as it attempted to block her path. When Baldr had said things would try to stop her, she hadn’t anticipated  _ this _ exactly, but she was trained in close quarters and these things weren’t. She didn’t care that they looked like people she loved. She’d smash every single one of them if they tried to get in her way. She had to get out of here; but god they were so  _ strong _ . 

She whirled on the spot as she felt something wrap around her ankle and on impulse clicked on the flashlight, shining it directly at the things attempting to close in on her. The black, turbulent mass seemed to hiss as it drew back, its oily tentacles retracting immediately. Her “family” reacted much the same way. She backed away towards the elevator, punching the call button as she continued to shine her light on them; she stepped into the elevator and let out a relieved sigh as the door slid closed. She had the sense that they wouldn’t follow her for now, she could at least move on to the next leg of this journey in relative peace, and now she knew how to defend herself from them.  _ I can do this. _

***

Zelgius could hear his horse laboring beneath him, his head down against the biting wind, his strong legs struggling through the snow. Winter was close. It was likely to officially set in within the next few weeks. It was cold enough now that he worried for Evelyn’s safety. She was wrapped up in furs and oiled skins, but still… it would take nothing for her to catch cold. It was quiet enough that he could hear the snow as it fell against the wagons’ canvas covers, but it set his nerves on edge. It was silent, yes… but  _ too _ silent. There were no birds calling, no animals running about, and  _ that _ was never a good sign. He spurred his horse forward, pulling him up alongside Seth. 

“I know,” Seth murmured, nodding towards the ridge ahead. “I imagine we’ll be finding them soon.” He found comfort in Seth’s quiet surety, but he’d hoped that it wouldn’t come to this. They really didn’t have time to waste on their enemies right now.

“Halt!” Anna’s voice rang out clearly over the stillness, but there was a note of anxiousness. He’d come to see that she lacked confidence in many ways, and despite their distance, relied heavily on Evelyn’s experience and battle hardened nerves. “Robin, Soren… thoughts?” 

“We don’t have much choice but to move forward. They have us at a  disadvantage, there’s nothing to be done,” Soren said. Robin studied the situation quietly, peering at the ridgeline. 

“I’m afraid he’s right. We need a scout to do a fly over… but they definitely expect us to do it. They probably have archers all over that ridge. It’s risky,” Robin said, his tone bitter. 

“Then I shall go. Wyverns can fly higher and are more resilient.” King Michalis’ tone was such that no one wanted to argue, and it wasn’t as if he were wrong, anyway. His wyvern in particular was a tough old brute that tended to shrug off arrows like they were made of paper. His rider was far more vulnerable, but he was skilled if nothing else. Zelgius could think of no reason to dissent save his desire to keep everyone as Evelyn had left them.

“Are you sure? It’s bound to get ugly once you get up there,” Anna said, chewing her lip nervously.

“Don’t question me.” 

“Be careful, then.” Anna nodded. They all watched as he swung himself into the saddle and gave his wyvern a pat on the neck. Zelgius watched as it spread its huge, leathery wings and kicked off, becoming nothing but a dark speck in the sky very quickly. He did a few passes over the ridge, circling several times before beating a hasty retreat, another similar speck hot on his heels. If there was one thing Michalis’ wyvern was not, it was fast. There were many that were speedy, but that particular creature was a mountain of muscle and sinew, meant to be powerful and sturdy instead.

 

He dove to gain speed before pulling up sharply, darting away as his pursuer found herself face to face with a confused and heavily armed crowd. Michalis landed nearby, the heavy thud of his wyvern’s massive clawed feet on the earth all that was heard for several seconds as their guest righted herself. She dismounted, tugging her heavy cloak around herself as she came to stand before them, her arms folded behind her back.

 

“Good day, I hope you will forgive the intrusion. I am Laegjarn, eldest princess of Múspell and commander of her northern forces. I come to you with a proposition.”


	15. Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn navigates her way through her past and Zelgius finds the strength to share his with another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit this too well because it's so long and it gave me so much trouble. I'm kind of just sick of looking at it and I'm afraid I keep picking at it, I'll just delete it and start over again. I know I could have done better, but eventually you have to know when to quit. 
> 
> This chapter touches on some difficult and painful topics, please remember to put your own comfort first.

Her voice rang out over the crowd, drawing murmurs from all those present. Zelgius narrowed his eyes, sizing the young woman up as she waited, drinking in the dramatic tension her words had caused. Nearby, he could feel Seth shifting irritably, seemingly torn between taking initiative and waiting to see what their guest had to say. Zelgius himself felt impatient at best, livid at her interruption at worst; they simply didn’t have time for this sort of thing.

“We’re listening.” Prince Alfonse said, his tone cautious. Zelgius tightened his grip on his reins, leaning forward slightly. He wasn’t sure what she had to say, nor what she would do, but he knew that he would defend the people gathered here. He had to. They were his now, and no one would harm them. Evelyn had effectively left them in his care--and if nothing else, he could and would continue to do his duty. He couldn’t allow himself to wallow in his misery while neglecting his role here. Not anymore, at least.

“I know of your situation, and I know what you seek. Beyond that ridge, an entire battalion of loyal Múspell soldiers waits for you. You would never be able to make it through with so small a force, burdened as you are with wounded and supplies,” she paused, glancing around to ensure she had their full attention, “however; I do not wish for there to be a slaughter. There has been enough pointless death.”

Zelgius started when he felt someone come up from behind, and became more surprised to see it was Gunnthrá and Fjorm--the looks of rage and indignation upon their faces were breathtaking. Gunnthrá, who had always been so graceful and serene, and Fjorm who was always so sweet and quiet looked ready to kill. He couldn’t fault them for this. He too was itching to kill this foolhardy girl. She was in the way, and was speaking as though the deaths of their people--their family, meant nothing. It was detached, and professional. She had lost nothing, and so her speech meant nothing.

“You come to us with pretty words and trite sincerity, but what do you want from us? Pointless death, you say? Oh no, each and every death had a point, my dear. Perhaps it held no meaning for  _ you _ , but to  _ us _ it means quite a lot. Would you like to…  _ reword _ your last sentence, perhaps?” Gunnthrá’s tone was cold, calculated, and full of barely suppressed rage. Princess Laegjarn seemed taken aback at the chilly rebuttal, but recovered quickly, to her credit. Perhaps she’d expected trembling waifs hiding behind guards instead of strong, determined and  _ angry  _ women.

“I… apologize, I didn't mean to imply that your kin’s lives meant nothing. Quite the opposite, really. I shall speak plainly. I wish to offer you a boon. I cannot be seen aiding you openly; but, I do not agree with my father... I need help to deal with him, however. I alone cannot stop him, and he is no longer the man I once knew. Putting him down would be a kindness.” Silence settled over them as she trailed off, her crimson eyes searching Gunnthrá’s face.

“And what is it that you are proposing, exactly? You wish to stop him and want our help to do it?” Gunnthrá asked, her tone still cold, but lacking the venom it had possessed.

“Yes. My father is coming, he is two or three days away and you are at a disadvantage without your summoner… but you also need to perform Nifl’s rite to douse the flames of Múspell and defeat him. You have little time to do either. You are trying to save your summoner and attain the means to defeat my father, and I know where the patrols are. Agree to negotiate for peace and I will gladly tell you how best to avoid our forces.”

“You will agree to pay reparations when you are queen, naturally?” Gunnthrá asked, her eyes narrowing shrewdly.

“Of course, that’s only natural,” Princess Laegjarn said, nodding her head solemnly. “Have you a map at hand? I will mark the patrol routes for you.” Robin produced their map, eyeing her briefly before handing it over. Whatever he saw in her was enough to put Soren at ease; or at least as at ease as the boy ever seemed to be, which was enough for Zelgius for the time being. If they saw no immediate threat, then he would accept things as they were. For now.

Princess Laegjarn was quiet as she made her marks, and Zelgius was struck by just how trusting she was being. It would be nothing for them to overpower and kill her, and yet… she didn’t seem to fear it. Was this the kind of confidence that came with knowing one’s place in the world, or was she simply comfortable enough with danger that this was nothing to her? With Surtr as her father… that was an unfortunate likelihood. She straightened and studied her work, nodding to herself as she returned the map to Robin with a surprisingly sweet smile.

“Thank you. I look forward to our future cooperation, I hope to earn your trust and forgiveness in the coming years, My Ladies.” She bowed deeply to them both before turning towards her wyvern and swinging herself back into the saddle. “One more thing before I go… as I said, I will be unable to aid you openly, at first. I will do my best not to engage you in battle, but I must protect my sister until she is at my side. If my father feels I am betraying him, he won’t hesitate to kill her, and I cannot abide that. Please understand that I am not intending to betray your trust.”

“I understand, but I thank you for you honesty,” Gunnthrá breezed, her posture more relaxed now than it had been.

“I am seeking to be your ally, and I can’t do that if you don’t trust me; so I must be honest with you. Good day, and safe travels. I will do what I can to make your journey an easy one.” With that, she was gone, her wyvern quickly becoming nothing but a speck on the horizon. It was strange, and he wasn’t sure he entirely trusted her, but he felt more relieved than he had in days. If she were earnest, then they would likely be able to make it to Baldr’s temple with minimal fuss. They wouldn’t need to become entirely uncoupled from the rest of the army, which would make them safer. It felt good to know that.

“Everyone eat and drink water. We’ll resume our march in a few minutes,” Anna called.

Zelgius reached into his saddlebag for his portion of the day’s lunch: a few strips of elk jerky, hard bread, and a mix of nuts and dried fruit. It was hardly a luxurious lunch, but it was filling enough and would give him the strength he needed to fight should he have to. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but even if she were being entirely honest, which remained to be seen, she couldn’t necessarily predict whether the units she knew of would stray from their intended course. Things happened and plans changed out of necessity. They would still need to be ready.

“So…” Zelgius’ head jerked up as he heard Robin’s voice, finding him standing cautiously nearby. He eyed him with a slight wariness, which stung, but he couldn’t blame him. Had he not given them all reason enough to lose faith in him? Had that not been the whole point? “How’re you feeling today?”

Zelgius shifted awkwardly in his saddle as he nibbled on his jerky, feeling unworthy of meeting the man’s eyes. How could he even answer such a question? He was feeling terrible. He  _ hurt _ . He hurt so badly that he could scarcely stand to move; it hadn’t been so intense in a long while, but he was used to the milder, nearly constant pain that was his companion. He couldn’t tell Robin that, though. They needed to believe that he was strong and healthy, even if that wasn’t necessarily the case. At least his mind remained unclouded. Pain he could fight through, a haze of confusion coupled with the pain was more difficult to manage.

“Well enough, all things considered. Why do you ask?” Robin shrugged, a rueful smile spreading over his face. Robin was, in a word, cute. He was small, wiry, and while he was certainly not as traditionally handsome as a man like Seth, he held his own charm. It was easy to see why people felt at ease with him, because he did too.

“Just checking in. Why don’t we have tea tonight? You could probably use someone to talk to for a while.” It sounded nice. He’d missed talking with people, he’d missed being seen as someone worthwhile and trustworthy. Maybe it wasn’t too late to go back.

“I’d… like that.” Tea would help soothe his aches, too. He was sure he could ask the healers for something that would help him manage it; and… having something to look forward to helped keep him grounded. He needed to keep himself calm and level headed, for everyone’s sake.

***

She had expected to simply be transported to her next destination as she had been the first time, but it surprised her when she pushed the front doors open and found herself simply standing outside. It was dark, the sun had long since set--if it had ever risen to begin with, and she was utterly alone. There was no sound here, and the streetlamps flickered just like the ones inside had, but she chose to ignore them in lieu of putting one foot in front of the other. She didn’t know where she was going and she wasn’t sure it really mattered.

She tugged her robe tightly around herself as she wandered, her grip on the flashlight tightening with every noise. Her steps hastened but she managed to keep herself from running. She didn’t like this place, she didn’t like the silence or the cold, and she didn’t like feeling small and helpless. She glanced up, frowning at the dark, vacant sky above her. Nothing reminded her that she was insignificant quite like something so vast and unknowable, and yet… looking up at it here, it all seemed so close. The sky was a heavy, oppressive thing above her, reminding her more of thick blanket than the fantastic, infinite vacuum of space. There were no stars above her. Was it cloudy? No… no, this was just how it was. She shuddered and tore her eyes away, feeling cold and empty just for looking at it.

A strange, grinding sound behind her drew her attention away from the feeling of the sky. She frowned and clicked on the light, preparing herself to deal with whatever it was, but when she turned, she saw nothing. Nothing… nothing when there should have been street, buildings and lamps behind her. She took a breath and stepped back several paces, watching fretfully as nothingness encroached on her. It stopped shy of where she’d been only a few moments prior, the grinding stopping when it did.  _ Choices have consequences _ . She had no choice but to continue, whether she was right or not. She kept her pace steady and ignored her urge to run. She couldn’t hear anything over the noise, prompting her to keep her head on a swivel, keeping an eye on her surroundings.  _ Nothing can harm you _ didn’t mean that nothing was dangerous, after all.

She turned down a familiar looking side street and swore quietly when she realized where she was going. She’d not been there in several years, and still felt a flash of illogical terror when she thought about it, but there was no going back now. The little apartment she and Charlie shared wasn’t far, now. Another right, two lefts, and she would find it. She could prolong it if she wanted to, but there was no point. Her pace slowed briefly as the building came into view, her heart pounding in her ears. She thought she’d never have to come back. It was just as sad and dull as it was the day she’d left it, but worse somehow, thanks to the void above and the weak, flickering light streaming from the streetlamps.

She forced herself to climb the stairs and push the fire door open, walking down the cheaply carpeted hall. Whatever was swallowing the world behind her continued doing whatever it was doing, which concerned her. How was she supposed to leave if there was no door? The window? They were on the second floor… at the very best it would shatter her legs and utterly fuck her knee implant… right? It didn’t matter. She would figure it out later. Right now, she had no choice but to deal with the man behind the fifth door on the left.

She schooled her expression as she opened the door and stepped inside, not bothering to be quiet as she closed the door. Whatever they had left to say to each other was best done quickly. Charlie came around the corner, his deceptively handsome face already apologetic. She knew where this was going.

“Evie! Where were you? I was worried.” He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled it away from him, arching her eyebrow in warning.

“You know exactly where I was.  _ Gone _ . I’m only here because I have to be.” She kept her tone soft. She’d always found that to be more effective with him. It kept him from thinking she wanted to fight. He sank to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his despite her attempts to keep them from him, his grey eyes pleading. Always so quick to play the good boy.

“I’m so sorry, Evie… you know I didn’t mean to do it! I was drunk and--”

“Stop it, you look pitiful. I ain’t interested in more of your excuses,  _ Charles _ .” He hated being called Charles.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. You know I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I just get a little mean when I have a few too many.”  _ A little mean _ meant ‘aggressive and horny’ in his language, she’d come to find over the years. It was only fun when she  _ wanted _ a hard fuck; if she wasn’t in the mood, it was annoying… and that last time, horrifying. “You still mad about  _ that _ ? Really? I said I was sorry, Evie. Goddamn.” Evelyn’s lip curled, bile rising as she remembered the night. He’d been more than just “a little mean” than night.

“Charlie, I will die mad. I haven’t forgiven you, and I won’t.” Why should she?

“God you’re such a bitch,” Charlie snapped, getting to his feet. She stood her ground as his hands flexed and relaxed, her expression remaining remarkably placid as he began to furiously pace. She was impressed with herself. This would have sent her into a fit a year ago, “nothing’s ever good enough for you!” He pouted at her and crossed his arms, looking more like a petulant brat than a grown man. “Come on, please? I won’t ever do it again, I promise!”

She sighed, crossing her own arms over her chest. That had worked on her more than few times. She’d been so devastated after her brother’s death and so vulnerable and desperate for love, and Charlie had given her those things. For a little while, anyway. He left her feeling used and lost many times after the honeymoon period wore off. She looked at him for a long moment, part of her still wanting the instant gratification of accepting his apology.

“Come on… you know I love you. No one else could ever love you more than I do.”  _ That _ line jerked her back to reality. He’d never loved her. He’d used her. He’d broken her trust. No. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I just can’t, you--” she hadn’t expected him to hit her here, but she felt the pain all the same. Her ears rang, her vision blurred, but it didn’t last as she felt him pulling at her clothes, maneuvering her onto her belly. She fought him as best as she could as his hand clamped around the back of her neck, pressing her face into the floor as his free hand groped her breasts. She froze, tears pricking her eyes as the memories came rushing back. Another night, another time she said no, her face shoved into the mattress as he forced himself on her. He’d ignored her sobs and her protests. He hadn’t bothered with a condom. Six weeks later, her doctor told her she was pregnant. The jingle of his belt coming undone brought her back to reality.  **Never again.**

“ **Get** .  **Off** !” She swung her elbow towards him, the hard bone colliding with the side of his head. He swore loudly, swaying briefly. She took advantage and rotated her hips, pushing him with her feet as she did so. “I said no, you sonuvabitch!” she snapped, swinging the flashlight at him. He ducked his head, his expression genuinely stunned. He’d had a much easier time overpowering her back then, she remembered. Fear, pain, and her own grief made her an easy target, but now… now she was just pissed. “When I say no, you fucking listen to me!” She swung again, harder and with more purpose this time. He didn’t manage to evade and yelped as it came down on his head.

“I’m sorry! I--”

“Shut up! Shut your goddamn mouth! You’re a waste of time and skin, Charlie Moore. I wouldn’t forgive you if you were the last man on earth. If I ever have to look at your stupid face and hear your fucking lies and excuses ever again, they’re gonna find you in pieces.” Her voice dipped low, coming out in a venomous hiss. Oh she hated him, She hated him for everything he did, and even things he didn’t. It was all she could do not to cave his skull in. “I hope you die alone and miserable, Charlie. It’s all you deserve.” She panted as she glared down her nose at him, seeing him as the pathetic man he’d always been.

“Evie, I--”

“No, Charlie. I don’t care what you have to say.” She turned away from him, making her way to the door and was pleasantly surprised to find things normal beyond it, her way out obvious and well lit as it should be. “Goodbye forever, you sack of shit.” She turned her head as she heard him make a small sound in his throat and watched as he seemed to melt, her impassive mask falling away to disgust as that thing consumed him, rising to its full height and bubbling like boiling tar. It was bigger now, but it didn’t try to harm her. She wouldn’t run this time. She would walk away, head held high as a final ‘fuck you’ to the man that she’d tried to love. She closed the door behind her with a gentle ‘click’ and strode down the hall, adrenaline all that kept her from collapsing into a hysterical, sobbing pile on the floor. 

***

Robin sat quietly across from him as they sipped their tea, bellies full of a wonderfully spicy rabbit stew Jakob had made for supper. Zelgius allowed himself to slump in his chair, enjoying the delicate sweetness of his tea--a freshly made rosehip blend, is what Kaze had told them. It was good, the man had a knack for it, it seemed.

“So, now that we’re alone and no one is going to overhear, how are you?  _ Really _ ? You aren’t fine, you haven’t been fine for weeks.” He wished he could be surprised, but it wasn’t as though he’d been trying to hide it. Really… maybe… he’d just wanted someone to help him.

“I’m… going to be fine, once this ordeal is over and she is well. For now… I endure.” He had no choice, really. Endure or die. That had always been the way of things. “When she is well again, I will try to be as well.” No matter what she chose, he would be satisfied as long as he could protect her and be of use. It would be enough.

“You love her.” It wasn’t a question. Robin was far too perceptive for him to fool, and he was tired of lying. He wanted to be a better man. Evelyn had done that to him.

“I know that it’s wrong.” It was, wasn’t it? Something like him was never meant to love. He was meant to be used. He was meant to be a tool and tools didn’t love. So why did he? Why did he have to go against his own nature and love her as he did? This was not the grateful admiration he felt towards his master, nor the familial longing he’d felt for Gawain. This feeling was nearly foreign.

“Why do you say that?” Robin’s brow crinkled in confusion as he studied him, trying so desperately to understand that Zelgius hurt for him. How could this kind, good person possibly understand?

“Pick whatever you like. I’ve done enough evil for that to be enough.” His very existence was a sin… but Robin didn’t know that. Chrom did, but he’d said he wouldn’t say anything, and he believed him. Maybe… maybe he could tell Robin, too.

“We’ve all done things we regret, and we’ve all killed our fair share. You killed because you were ordered to, right?” Not entirely. He’d not been ordered to kill Gawain, it had just… happened. He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t gone with the express purpose of doing it--fight him, but not to kill. He’d wanted to incapacitate. He’d wanted to test himself against the man that had trained him; the man he’d wanted to call father, but… when Gawain had refused to even dignify him with a proper fight, he’d been angry. First he’d abandoned him, and then he spat in his face? All that pain and anger had risen to the surface and he’d used more force than he’d intended. It was over so quickly… too quickly. When he’d fully realized what had happened later, he’d felt sick. He’d killed a man that he’d loved, and then he’d threatened to do the same to the children that could have been his family. He’d left them alone and orphaned in an uncertain world. That alone made him a monster.

“I…” Zelgius trailed off, rubbing at his face in frustration. What did he say? What  _ could _ he say? “Gawain… was no order. I killed him, and there is no excuse.” Ike’s sister had been right. Accident or no, he still did it. He needed to accept that he was a violent, horrid monster.

“Why’d you do it?” Robin’s tone held no judgement, only curiosity. That gave Zelgius courage.

“I… didn’t mean to, really. I’ll spare you the details, but… at the time, I didn’t know he’d crippled himself. If I had, I wouldn’t have been so aggressive.” Yes… that’s right. He preferred to spare lives where he could. He’d spared Ena, he’d spared Skrimir, he’d spared Ranulf…  _ twice _ . He would have happily spared Gawain. He wouldn’t have harmed his children. But… no. None of this changed anything. Sparring a handful of lives didn’t absolve him. This line of thought was meaningless. “Still… I did it. He is hardly the first, and he certainly wasn’t the last. I have always been a tool of violence. Only the hand using me has changed.” It had always been his lot in life. When he’d come here, he’d had hope that maybe he could start over and be someone new, but all of this just proved that he was too far gone to save. All this pain and misery for a mark he’d never asked for.

“You’re a person, Zelgius… you don’t have to talk about yourself like that. Maybe where you come from, people expected that, but not me; and certainly not Evelyn,” Robin chided.

“I’m… not. Robin… in Tellius, people like me are reviled simply for living. How can I consider myself a person after being told that I am unworthy of life or dignity for so many years?”

“What… do you mean?” Robin’s eyes narrowed, confusion crinkling his brow. Zelgius sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. He’d already said it, he may as well explain. Maybe, if he could manage to tell Robin, he could tell Evelyn as well. If he could tell her, she could understand; and if she could understand, then maybe…

“What do you know of Tellius and its people, Robin? You’ve spoken with others besides myself.” Zelgius stared down at his cup, watching as steam curled up from its still hot contents. His heart slammed against his ribs and he could feel his palms sweating, but he couldn’t allow himself to back down. Not this time. He needed to do this, he needed for  _ someone _ to understand.

“Not much. I know Tellius is home to normal humans like us and a race of shapeshifters. We have those in mine as well; we have the Manakete like Tiki and Nowi, and the Taguel… though there are only two of them left at time of talking.” Robin’s expression saddened, and Zelgius didn’t need to be told why there were only two remaining. He was far too aware of the horrors Beorc could visit upon others.

“There is a third… those that are the product of a union between Beorc and Laguz. They’re referred to as the Branded… we are considered too inferior by both to be accepted by either.” His tone was bitter. He knew that it made him sound petulant and resentful, but… he was. He did resent it. It wasn’t fair.  _ It wasn’t right _ . Robin was quiet while he mulled it over, his eyes boring into the table top.

“I… know what it’s like to be treated differently for blood and a mark you didn’t want.” Robin’s voice was small, almost too small to be audible, but Zelgius strained to catch it. He watched as Robin reached for his left glove and tugged it off to reveal a strange mark on the back of his hand-- a strange v-shaped brand, eerie for the six eyes that glared back up at him. “I’m what’s called a Fellblood. I was…  _ bred _ for the purpose of becoming the vessel of Grima. In our world, the Grimleal worship him as a god of death and ruin, and that is the world I was born into. I… have forgotten much of my past, I don’t know if I knew what I was. When Lucina came to us, Grima followed her and attempted to claim me. He only partially succeeded, thankfully.”

“Partially?” It was such an odd thing to hear. Robin had never struck him as the kind of person to have such a secret, but… perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised. Secrets weren’t exclusive to people like him. Good people had them, too.

“Mmhm. He’s here with me. If I let him, he could probably take over and then we’d have more problems than just Surtr on our hands, but… this place helps me keep it in check. I barely notice it.” Robin looked up finally, his smile small and tired. “When we return, we’re going to have to fight him. Me… and Grima, that is. When we do… I have decided that I will be the one to end it. Chrom doesn’t want me to do it, but… I love him and the others too much for this to be a problem later. It has to be me.”

“It’s going to kill you?” He could only guess, but the heaviness of Robin’s tone indicated that his ending it would be bad for him.

“Probably. He and I are connected; if one dies, then the other should as well. I’ve made my peace with that.”

“Does Chrom know?”

“No. I don’t intend to tell him, he’d just try to stop me. He’s willing to allow Grima a chance to come back in a few hundred years or so. I’m not. I don’t want this to happen to anyone ever again… my little girls have suffered enough. I can’t let it happen again.” Zelgius reached out hesitantly and placed his hand over Robin’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you… I…” they weren’t the same, but Robin could understand him at some level, and that was enough for now.

“It’s okay, Zelgius. I know it’s hard to hear after so long, but… you’re still the person you were to me when we met. I won’t change my mind because of your heritage. Is… that what you’re afraid of?” Zelgius nodded, chewing his lip.

“I’m always afraid. In Tellius, had I been discovered, I would have been killed, most likely. I… can’t dispense with that fear so easily. I’m simply too used to fearing and keeping my distance. You’re… one of the few that know this about me.”

“I understand. You don’t have to worry, your secret is safe with me.  _ You _ are safe with me.” Robin squeezed his hand, holding his gaze for several seconds. Zelgius felt his throat tighten, his eyes stinging with tears as Robin came around the table. He allowed him to brush his hair out of the way and press a soft kiss to his forehead, the gesture so undeniably affectionate that he nearly whimpered. Zelgius allowed himself to bury his face against Robin’s shoulder, drawing a shuddering breath as he did so.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with tears.

“What for?”

“Everything,” he shrugged, staring at his hand on the table top rather than looking at Robin. “I hurt you. I’ve hurt others. I…” he swallowed, taking a deep, steadying breath, “I’ve deeply hurt Evelyn. If I had just been there… if I’d just put these feelings aside, she would be--”

“You can’t keep doing that to yourself, Zelgius. Blaming yourself for something outside your control isn’t helpful,” Robin chided, his voice gentle.

“But…”

“Zelgius, listen to me. Whatever you said or did to Evelyn, I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you apologize. She’s good about that, but blaming yourself for everything happening now isn’t going to help, and you know this.” Zelgius sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. What he knew and what he  _ felt _ were very different things. He felt responsible. He felt guilty. He felt as if he needed to throw himself at her feet and beg her forgiveness for his cowardice, selfishness, and incompetence. He knew she would not blame him for any of this. Somehow… that made it all the more painful.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Robin sighed, squeezing his shoulder.

“You should get some rest. We’ve got an early start tomorrow morning.” Robin gathered their dishes and gave him a long, stern look before smiling gently. “Goodnight, Zelgius. I’ll see you in the morning. We’re going to make this right.” With that, he made his way outside, leaving Zelgius alone with his thoughts once more. He loved Robin’s confidence. It had likely been instrumental during his hardest trials before he’d met him. It would be so going forward, as well.

Zelgius rubbed absently at his shoulder, frowning at the heaviness in his limbs. He needed a long hot bath and maybe a trip to their makeshift sauna to help with his aches. Maybe he would make a visit to the infirmary, as well. He knew his presence there wouldn’t be helpful, nor could she hear or feel him, but it was the only way for him to see her at the time, and doing so put him at ease. It wouldn’t hurt, right? With that thought, he shrugged on a thick gambeson and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. He would concern himself with bathing afterwards, once he consoled himself with knowing that they were prepared to move come sunrise.

***

He made his way silently towards the healer’s tent, ready for his short visit and his sleeping draught. He needed to sleep tonight. He would get no more rest until she was safe, so this needed to count. Wrys looked up from his work as he entered, smiling gently at him as he settled onto the low stool at her bedside.

“I’ll leave you be, dear boy. Take your time tonight.” Wrys bowed slightly and stepped beyond the curtain that separated he and Evelyn from the rest of the infirmary. Zelgius slipped from his seat and pulled her into his arms, mindful of how small and delicate she was. He allowed her to rest against his chest, running his fingers through her hair. They’d managed to brush it out at last, it seemed, and she no longer smelled of the poison, but there was the tart smell of vinegar on her now. He hated it. She was supposed to smell faintly sweet and floral, she was supposed to be radiant and lively. She would be right now if he had been there for her.

“I’m so sorry…  _ I’m sorry _ …” his voice wavered, hot tears spilling down onto her forehead. He brushed them away as he trembled in the warm tent, his heart aching. Why her? Why did she have to be the one to suffer? Why not him? He had more than earned pain and a slow death.  _ Goddess please, take me instead _ . He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, sobbing quietly as he listened to her raspy breathing. He was terrified now. It was easy to pretend before that everything would be fine, that she was in less danger than she was; but tonight he could hear the truth with her every breath. They had to make it soon. They were running out of time. He wanted to leave now, but knew that they couldn’t. It was simply too dangerous to be out in the dark. The weather could turn on them at any moment, and to be stuck outside in a snowstorm would kill all of them. He knew this, and yet… and yet all he wanted was to take her and run.

He hoped that somehow, she could hear him, that talking to her and holding her how she seemed to like helped. He hoped that she could hear the thrum of his wretched heart, unworthy though it was. It was hers, if she wanted it. She probably wouldn’t any longer, but some small part of him still believed that what they’d had could be salvaged and rebuilt, stronger and more honest. It was foolish, he knew this; but he’d often heard that love did that to people.

‘ _ I hope you find someone that leaves you breathless, Zelgius, _ ’ Sephiran had said, ‘ _ you’ve been so lonely. You should find someone and settle down. You’re too young and handsome to be married to your work.’  _ He hadn’t looked up from whatever document he’d been reading. He never seemed fully aware of how very preachy he could be when it came to such topics. He was always oddly adamant about it, as though his being a bachelor was somehow an injustice.

“Lord Sephiran once told me that it would be a horrible sin for me to never have children. He’d said that I was much too pretty to neglect passing my looks along. Isn’t that silly? I think he would have liked you.” He wasn’t sure why he told her that. She couldn’t hear him, and it was an incredibly odd thing to say, anyway… and yet somehow, it felt relevant. Sephiran  _ would _ have liked her, and he was the closest thing to family he’d had, and that mattered. He would have laughed at her bluntness, and appreciated her spunk. Zelgius sighed and arranged her properly on her cot, stroking her face carefully, wiping the residual tears away from his cheeks with his other hand.

“I’ll see you again soon, one way or another. I swear it.” He pressed his forehead against hers, nudging her nose with his own before pulling away. He couldn’t linger forever, no matter how he wished to sleep at her side. She needed him strong and well rested for what would come in only a matter of hours, and the healers needed to be able to work. With staves and spoonfuls of water, they could buy them a little extra time, but not much.

“Done already, son?” Wrys asked, looking up in surprise as he pushed through the curtain. Zelgius nodded quietly, all too aware that Wrys could see that he’d cried. Lissa looked up from her work nearby, taking in his tired, tearful appearance before putting it aside to approach him.

“Zelgius? Are you going to be okay?” She asked, touching his hand cautiously. He wasn’t surprised that she was uncertain of him now. He’d shown them all just how violent and cold he could be, but he had missed her.

“I… don’t know. For now… I am able to move forward.” He didn’t want to lie to her. This dear, sweet girl had been so kind to him, even though he didn’t deserve it. She put her hand on his elbow and guided him to a stool nearby. Zelgius tensed briefly as she pulled him into a tight embrace, her small hands smoothing his hair. He didn’t have the energy to jerk away, and he didn’t really want to anyway. All of this happened because he had shoved away love and care. He clamped his jaw tight against the swell of emotion, but he couldn’t quite stop the tears that managed to slip through his control. He could feel himself trembling again, but he managed not to sob openly as he wanted to. “ _ I feel so useless _ .”

“I know… we all do. I’m so sorry, Zelgius. You’ve had such a rough time lately… I promised to be your family and didn’t even help you. I didn’t know how…” Lissa sniffled, burying her face against him as she squeezed him tighter. She sounded so sad and guilty, as though his pain was in anyway her fault. Was Priscilla feeling this way too? Nino? Who else had he hurt by pushing them all away? He really was the worst kind of fool. Carefully, he put his arms around her, pulling her closer, his hand rubbing circles on her back.

“S’not your fault…” he mumbled, his voice thin and watery. He knew he looked and sounded absolutely ridiculous. He was a grown man, one that had taken more lives than he could count; one who had done monstrous things, and yet here he was, crying on a young girl’s shoulder.

“Here, my dear. Drink this, it’ll help you sleep.” Wrys said, pressing a warm mug into his hand. Zelgius accepted it, keeping his other arm around the distraught girl currently burying her face against his shoulder. “It should taste good tonight. We managed to find some edible berries this morning.” Zelgius watched as the old curate took a seat nearby, his kind old eyes full of understanding.

“Thank you, Father Wrys.” Zelgius brought the mug to his lips and allowed Lissa to settle herself onto the ground, wearily resting her head against his knee as she did so. Everyone was exhausted, afraid, and unsure. He’d been so lost in his misery that he forgot that they needed him to be strong. His jaunt into his personal hell had hurt everyone in the army, and he’d never felt more unworthy or stupid.

“Think nothing of it, my boy. I’m only glad that you’re finally allowing yourself your grief. You musn’t bottle it up, dear. It only makes things harder.” Wrys was right of course. Usually, Zelgius would train or fight his way through things, but these more tender feelings required an outlet he was unused to. Anger or the fear brought on by his status as branded were different than love and the fear of losing that love, or the feeling of absolute helplessness in the face of death. “You should think about getting yourself ready for bed. That tea will settle in soon, and you need to rest.” Right again. Zelgius ran a hand over his face before looking down at Lissa. She’d fallen asleep in the short span of time that he and Wrys had been talking and he felt terrible waking her.

“Lissa?” He stroked her hair, smiling weakly as she blinked up at him. “I’m going to bed… you should as well, it’s going to be a hard march tomorrow.” She sniffled and wiped her face on her apron, looking at Wrys as Zelgius helped her to her feet.

“Are you going to be okay until Lucius and Priscilla get here, Wrys?”

“Of course my dear. General Zelgius is right, you have a hard day ahead of you. Please, get your rest,” Wrys said.

“I shall walk you to your tent. Come along.” Zelgius offered her his hand, which she took without hesitation, and they stepped out into the frigid night together, heads bowed against the wind. Talking was pointless, they wouldn’t be able to hear one another, but their joined hands were enough communication. Her tent was blessedly nearby, and it was easy to simply allow her to embrace him once more, as she shouted her ‘goodnight’ into the wind. Zelgius nodded in reply, knowing his own voice was not strong enough at the moment to be heard. He would see her in only a matter of hours, anyway.

***

She fell to her hands and knees, wheezing and coughing, shaking as the compulsion to vomit hit her again. She held her hair out of the way as more of that thick, slimy, oily gunk spilled onto the sidewalk. Her lungs screamed for air and her mouth tasted like a mixture of bile and something obscenely bitter, but her stomach gave her no time to rest. She retched again, the heave so violent that it hurt her head and neck. She wobbled slightly, taking a big gulp of air once her body allowed it. She felt cold, her skin clammy. She was so, so thirsty. Had she made the wrong choice? Should she have taken the water instead? She found her throat parched and her breathing raspy as she rocked back on her heels, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, and was startled to find it covered in the same foul substance she’d been chucking up only moments before. She was no expert, but she’d spent plenty of mornings puking throughout her life, and never once had she had tequila run out of her eyes or nose. Was this a sign that she was running out of time?

She forced herself to her feet, staggering a few paces before falling to her knees again. She felt so weak and leaden now. First Charlie and now this. She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on things outside of herself. There was too much riding on her. She  _ had _ to get out of here. This time when she struggled to her feet, she felt more stable. Good. She had fight left in her yet and that was what mattered. It was slow at first, but she could walk. As she did so, her surroundings became familiar, and her heart sank when she rounded a corner and saw another nondescript apartment complex. She’d only been here a handful of times, but the last one had been one of the worst days of her life.

_ No… please not that again _ .

What would she see when she got up there? What was there to say? How did she impart any of that grief to the gross approximation of her brother? How could she; tired and heavy with the burden of it all, be expected to withstand this for a second time? What was there to learn here? With no input from her, her feet moved her forward, up the stairs, towards the place she knew he would be waiting. It was with a dim sort of realization that she noticed the things that seemed to inhabit this place. They weren’t people, not really; but they were aware of her, and there was something so  _ hungry _ in the way they looked at her. She moved forward, her grip on her flashlight hard and desperate, but she didn’t turn it on. They didn’t seem keen on chasing her, and she was glad because running and fighting was mostly out of the question now. She just felt too weak.

She took a deep breath as she reached the landing and turned left, making her way down the breezeway, running her fingers over the weathered steel rail that acted as a guard to keep drunks and children from falling over the edge. It felt real, even though she knew it wasn’t, and something about that made her feel safer. Stronger. She stopped in front of the door that separated her from her brother, pressing her hand against the cool metal as she contemplated what she would say. It wasn’t like how she felt about her father or Charlie. There was no fear or anger. She just felt sad.

_ Enough stalling _ . She didn’t have enough time to be a coward, people--living ones, were counting on her. Whatever waited for her inside would be dealt with, just as things always were. She squared her shoulders and turned the knob, pushing her way into the living room. It looked much the same as it had the last time she was there, but the music was playing this time.

“Bub? You here?”

“Hold up, be right there.” His voice came from the bathroom, but… there  _ was _ a voice. At least she could take solace in that. She settled into the frayed armchair nearest the door, crossing her legs. She’d gone with him the day he’d bought this thing. He’d bought it specifically because it was big and she liked it when she could draw up her knees when she sat down. It was meant to be  _ her _ chair. Now it sat in her living room all the way across the country from here, and her dog liked to sleep in it. It didn’t match her sofa or rug, but she didn’t like to waste things, and it  was something small and innocuous enough that she didn’t fall apart just looking at it.

Her brother emerged after a few moments, his smile firmly in place. She took the chance she had to study him as he settled onto the couch, grunting in that “dad” kind of way that she used to always tease him about. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d seen him. Maybe it was, in a way. She was certainly a different person now than she was then, though she couldn’t exactly say it was a good kind of different. He still looked every bit like the man he was; so full of life and cheer, he’d always been the optimist between them.

“So. Whatcha wanna talk about? You didn’t come by for no reason; that ain’t you.” He crossed his arms and waited, his expression contemplative. What did she say? What was there  _ to _ say?

“Avery had another kid… a girl this time. Her boy is a terror.” That wasn’t exactly what she’d expected to come out of her mouth, but… well. She wasn’t sure it mattered what she said.

“Damn… I knew he was gonna be a hellion. That boy had some lungs on him, I’ll tell you.” Her brother rubbed at his jaw, the sound of his stubble rasping against his palm somehow audible over the radio. “What’s the girl’s name?”

“Abigail. She’s a precious little thing. Nothing like her brother was.”

“And her daddy?”

“Not worth a damn. I met him once, I didn’t like him. He didn’t stick around, so I guess my hunch was right.” She shrugged, leaning towards him in her chair. She was quiet as she contemplated him for a moment, before finally giving in with a sigh. “I miss you.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d get around to it,” her brother said, sighing heavily. “You still blaming yourself for this, ain’t you?” She didn’t reply, but she didn’t have to. Her face said it all. “It ain’t like you put the damn gun to my head, you know?”

“But I… I wasn’t there for you. You needed me around and I wasn’t there--”

“You ain’t my mama, Evelyn. You act like you’re responsible for us, but you ain’t. You can only do so much, honey. I made a choice, and I’m sorry for it; but it was my choice and you didn’t have any say in it.” There was no anger in his voice, but he was firm. He’d told her that so many times.  _ You ain’t my mama _ . Their sisters shared the sentiment. Was she overbearing? Did they all resent her?

“But--”

“I know what you’re about to say, and no. There ain’t nothin’ you coulda have done better. You always pick yourself apart, you’re too hard on yourself… but I’m telling you there’s nothing. You were my sister, and my best friend. I love you more than I love myself. Please, hon just… stop blaming yourself for this,” he pleaded. But, she just couldn’t. There was one thing that she could always blame herself for, and it burned hot and cruel in her belly.

“But if I hadn’t convinced you to enlist with me, you’d still be alive.” She’d been the one to decide that she’d do it. Not out of duty to country, but for work and stability. She wanted out of Kentucky. She wanted more for herself than what she would have had. If she’d just stayed home like a good girl, at least her brother would still be alive… right?

“Maybe, but you didn’t  _ convince _ me to do nothin’. I did it because I agreed that it was the best we had. I could’ve gone into the mines, I could’ve worked in a factory, I could’ve done lots of other things; but I  _ decided _ to go with you. Yeah, I regretted it later; after a failed marriage and lots of death; but that’s life, ain’t it? You always regret somethin’. You can be mostly happy and still regret the little shit. So  _ maybe _ I’d still be alive and with you, but you wouldn’t be you. I know my sister, and I know you’d be miserable with that life. You just ain’t the housewife type… unless that’s changed?”

Evelyn snorted at the sudden change of subject. Of course he’d bring that up. She had more than a few failed relationships. She and Everett had kept some secrets that she’d never even consider sharing with her mother or sisters, simply because they’d think less of her. Charlie was just the most recent in a long line of failures. She could have used Everett’s calm, steady presence with her after that. He would have at least dealt with the man while she dealt with everything else. He would have gone with her when she’d gone to the clinic, which would have made it less scary.

“No, that hasn’t changed. I ain’t about to start pumpin’ out babies any time soon.”

“That ain’t what I mean. You need to settle down one of these days. Just… have someone around that can take care of you, for once. You always had better luck with women. Maybe you should try that.” There was someone she wanted. She wanted to be with Zelgius more than anything, but… he didn’t want her, did he? Even if he were being dramatic, even if all he’d been doing was flailing out of fear and didn’t mean what he’d said, he’d still rather be alone and miserable than with her, and that was telling. She really was overbearing, wasn’t she? She’d been  _ too _ giving,  _ too _ affectionate; and even now, rather than simply owning her mistakes and accepting that she was to blame, she was still angry with him. She didn’t have the right to be, but she was.

“Nah… I think I might just be bad at it.” She was bad at most things, if she really thought about it. She’d been a bad daughter, a bad sister, she’d be a bad mother. She’d been too eager and pushed away a good man.

“Bullshit. You ain’t bad at it, they just weren’t for you. They always wanted you to be someone you ain’t. You need someone that loves you for who you are.” But who even was she? She was so different from who she was that she barely recognized herself. There were days that she felt surprised that she was still Evelyn, the eldest child of Audrey and Liam, the girl teachers had described as ‘bright but too quiet’ and then ‘bright but too talkative.’ She’d lost friends, lovers, and family. She was tired. So tired, and never enough for anyone. She’d done her best, but her best could only go so far. She hadn’t been a good replacement for their mother, she wasn’t a good stand in for a quiet, conservative wife, and she wasn’t strong enough to bring down an invincible warlord. Maybe… giving up would be kinder.

“Everett… I don’t want to do this anymore.” At least here, she could find some kind of peace. She didn’t realize she was sobbing until she felt herself being plucked from the chair and pulled against her brother’s chest, his rough hands running through her hair. He shushed and rocked her, his arms tight around her. “ _ I’m so tired _ ,” she hiccupped, burying her face against him. The past several months had been exhausting, and there was no end or at least, not a happy one, in sight.

“I know you are, but… you gotta keep going. See this through. You can do it, we both know you can.” She took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled back to look up at him, her eyes too blurry with tears to make out more than a ginger haired blob. “Keep that chin up and soldier on.”

“When do I get to stop, though? When do I get to give up?” She didn’t even know she’d been carrying all this around. She knew she was tired and eager to get through with the worst parts of her life, but she didn’t realized just how miserable she’d been. Was that the point of this?  _ Let it out, Evelyn. Let it out and listen to how pathetic you sound. Let your brother talk sense into you. _

“You get to stop when you’re done, hon. That’s the way it’s supposed to be, ain’t it? You got a job to do, so do it.”

“I didn’t even ask for this! I didn’t want this… this was put on me by someone else!” That was why she avoided Anna as much as she could. At least to some extent, she blamed her for this. She was ripped away from her own life, boring and unfulfilling though it was, and plunged right back into something she’d said she never wanted to do again. Worse still… she  _ liked _ it. Not the killing, never that; but she liked the camaraderie, the  _ purpose _ . It was the only thing that had kept her in the army as long as she’d been, after all. It was the only thing she’d missed when she was retired.

“I know, but you’re up to your elbows in it now. You missed your chance to say no a long time ago. Besides… ain’t there someone you wanna get back to?” There were lots of people she wanted to get back to. She wanted to see her sisters and mother again. She wanted to see Alfonse and Sharena. She wanted to apologize to Zelgius… both of them. She fell quiet, closing her eyes as she took several steadying breaths. She was being ridiculous. She was whining, and she was just too old to be acting like a child. As she stood there, preparing herself to push forward, she swore she could feel something. Not in the fake way she’s been experiencing this world, but really feel it; like someone… holding her. She could hear the soft thumping of a heartbeat in Everett’s chest, but she knew it wasn’t real and it sounded much too solid for a dream world like this, anyway. Zelgius. She knew without having to see him or be told. She even knew  _ which _ one it was. It frustrated her to know that even though he was so afraid and so quick to lash out, he still sought her out during something like this. Did he blame himself for this? Did he feel guilty for the things he said? Stupid question; this was Zelgius, a man who seemed to look for reasons to hate himself. She needed to get back to him, so she could give him an earful.

“You’re right… I’m sorry, Bub.”

“Don’t worry about it. No matter where we are, or what’s happened, I’m your brother. I’ll always set you right,” he said. They stepped back from each other and Everett smiled down at her sadly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“I still miss you.”

“And that’s okay. You’re always gonna miss me; but you gotta stop hanging on to the worst parts of me. This is a permanent condition, honey. It’s time for you to move on, and you know it.”

She did. She’d known it for years, but ‘move on’ was easily said but much harder to do. He was right, though. She couldn’t blame herself for the things other people did, and she couldn’t keep mothering people who already had mothers, whether they’d been good mothers or not. She couldn’t undo the things that had been done to the people she loved, so she needed to focus on making them safe and  _ capable _ of healing on their own.

“I love you, Bub.”

“I love you, too. C’mon. It’s time for you to go. You still got a little ways to go, and I ain’t gonna be the reason you don’t get there on time.” He placed a gentle hand on her back and guided her towards the door, placing a kiss against her temple as she reached for the door. “Stop being so scared. Just go for it.”

She turned to ask him what he meant, but where her brother had stood was now empty. His living room began to melt and disintegrate before her eyes, and her eyes watered as familiar hot, dry wind and harsh sandy bits stung at her flesh. She covered her face to protect herself against the change, but just as she was closing her eyes to guard them against the sand, she saw that slimy, black thing slinking away. It had grown smaller and less intimidating, more humanoid somehow, she thought; though that remained to be seen. Dread pooled in her stomach as she looked around. She could taste bile in her mouth as her heart hammered in her chest.  _ Not here. Anywhere but here _ .

***

He watched as the snow swirled just off the ground as the wind howled in his ears. It hadn’t begun to snow yet, but the look of the clouds told him it was only a matter of time. He hoped the weather would hold long enough for them to at least make it to the temple, but it was impossible to say. He yawned widely as he pushed his way into his tent, grateful for the warmth the small fire pit within afforded. He stripped off his clothes quickly, shivering as the wind found his tent’s vent and nipped at his naked body. He poured himself a tankard of water before placing the metal pitcher into the coals to heat the water. The bath had been occupied, but he would make do.

He walked himself through his mental checklist as he scrubbed at his teeth and tongue, checking over his pack and gear one more time before digging out a clean rag and the small bar of soap he kept handy, checking to ensure the water was warm, but not scalding as he pulled the pitcher from the coals. He packed away his toothbrush, rinsed his mouth, and downed what was left of the water in his tankard before pouring a measure of the hot water over himself. He would scrub the rest of his body with the wet cloth, but he would hit the more…  _ important _ bits with soap. No matter the circumstances, it was important to be cleanly when possible; not only because it was considerate, but it helped ward off illnesses and pests; granted Nifl was much too cold for lice or fleas to become an issue, but he would not risk it. He’d not been subjected to the nasty little things since childhood, and he wasn’t keen to ever experience it again.

He was surprised to find himself wistful at the thought of Evelyn washing his back for him. He’d never allowed anyone to do so. In fact, she was one of the few that had ever touched it… he missed it. Would she like the way he looked? She’d seen him already, of course… but he wasn’t sure exactly  _ how much  _ she’d seen. He was fairly sure she’d not seen his back, or else she would have mentioned it the night he’d ruined it all, but… goddess he hoped she’d not seen anything below the waist. He was too afraid to ask, and too embarrassed to think about it; but he would be even more embarrassed to be seen by her now… the winter’s chill wasn’t flattering.

His teeth clacked together as he towelled himself off, but the chill didn’t last as he pulled on his clean clothes, the wool sweater, socks and elkskin trousers warming him almost instantly with help from the low fire. He would be able to roll out of bed and kit up quickly in the morning, and who ever was on kitchen duty would have their meal ready. Everything was as close to ready as it could be. They would be fine. Everything would be fine.

“General Zelgius?” He jolted when he heard a small, familiar voice just beyond the flap of his tent, the wind dying down just enough to let him hear. He strode across the tent quickly, pulling the oiled canvas aside to allow Nino out of the cold.

“Nino? Whatever are you doing out in this weather? Is everything okay?” He watched as she warmed herself by his fire, rubbing her tiny hands together. Where were her gloves?

“I’m going with you,” she said. Her voice was firm, her thin arms crossing over her chest as though taking on a defiant posture would convince him.

“Are you, now?” He asked, fixing her with a stern look of his own. She didn’t back down, which made him chuckle softly as he made his way towards his cot.

“Yep. I’m going. I want to help you protect Evelyn.”

“And why is that? They need help here, too.” He wasn’t trying to be cruel, not this time. In truth, he just didn’t want her to get hurt, or to see what would happen if Evelyn died. She’d been through enough.

“Because I love you, and you love her.” Nino shrugged, settling onto his cot beside him. She laughed at his surprised expression, shaking her head softly. “Even a baby would be able to tell. You’re not subtle,” she said. Zelgius sighed, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. He’d thought he’d managed to keep the more romantic nature of his feelings hidden, but apparently not.

“Well… that’s not good.” He’d done all this because he wanted to protect her from the shame that his love would bring her, but it seemed he’d failed miserably in that. Did  _ everyone _ know? Robin he understood, but Nino too?

“Why? I think you two are cute.” Nino was still so young, so of course she wouldn’t think anything of it, but those that were old enough to disapprove likely did, and who could blame them?

“Nino… you’re still so young… too young to understand, but I could never be worthy of her.” It wouldn’t stop him from offering himself to her, but he knew that she was likely to decline. She’d probably come to understand that he was unworthy of her by now, but… he was willing to bear the pain of her rejection.

“Why, because you’re the Black Knight? That doesn’t bother her.”

“That’s… part of it, yes.” How did he explain it to her? _Could_ _he_? She didn’t understand what it meant to be branded, nor did she know the extent of his brutality. It was easy to justify killing your enemies, but he’d be used as a tool of genocide, too. How many laguz had he hunted and killed by orders of Daein’s king? How many people had he killed to fool Ashnard into thinking he was loyal to him? How many people died so that he could help his master accomplish his goal… and… how did doing that alone not damn him? It was such a drastic, cruel thing fueled by so much hatred and misery. It was wrong, and yet who was he to condemn him? He was a tool to be used, and tools had no say in how they were put to their purpose. At least Sephiran had good reason for his hatred.

“Zelgius?” He looked down at her, surprised as she crawled into his lap. He was tired. That tea was doing what it was meant to do. He wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer. “I’ve done bad things too. I’ve seen terrible things. The people I called family were assassins, they’d killed a lot of people, too… but they were also kind and warm. They were good to people. You’re like that, too. You’ve done bad things because you were ordered to. You didn’t do it because you liked it.” She was so young and naive, and yet so much wiser than he’d been at her age.

“I still did it, Nino. Not liking it doesn’t absolve me… but you are right. I don’t like it.” It was impossible to disentangle morality and killing, he’d long since accepted that. He was aware that if there was indeed a hell, he would have to answer for the lives he’d taken at some point. He sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes briefly. “I must sleep now, Nino. If I fight it, I won’t sleep at all. You may stay here tonight, if you wish,” he said. Nino nodded, slipping from his lap as he stretched out on the cot, reaching out to douse his lamp. Nino curled against his side, fussing with the blanket a moment before settling in.

“Good night, Zelgius.”

“Good night, my little one.” She giggled as his words slurred together, his accent slipping into something like his native one; his vowels growing rounder and warmer, his consonants sharper. As he slipped away into sleep, he prayed to whatever god might hear him that his dreams were kind to him. 

***

Zelgius woke to the feeling of being kicked--not in the way he was used to, though. Nino had simply become restless and squirmy, her foot connecting with his thigh as she tried to get more comfortable. He smiled in spite of himself as she nearly fell from the cot, yelping as the change in her balance woke her. He caught her by the arm before she could fall onto the straw covered ground, tugging her back to the safety of his side.

“The cot is too small for you to be thrashing like that, dear,” he teased. She mumbled something against his shoulder before shifting onto her back.

“It’s almost time for us to get up, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone thoughtful.

“Very nearly, yes. Do you need me to walk you to your tent?”

“No, I’ll be okay. I’m already packed, I just need to get dressed. I’ll see you at breakfast,” she said, hauling herself out of the cot. It was going to be cold outside. It was a little chilly inside, even; but he didn’t have time to linger in bed. Today was an important day, and he  **would** succeed.  

He kicked away the blanket and struggled to his feet, noting that his legs were still a little wobbly from the effects of his sleeping draught. He made his way towards his armor stand, shrugging on his gambeson and arming doublet, layering piece after piece of steel upon himself. It was always calming to be fully armored. He liked the weight, he liked that he was rather impervious to most forms of physical attack. Before Evelyn, it was the closest to an embrace he’d had. He squared his shoulders as Alondite settled against his hip, thrumming gently with subtle traces of magic.  _ Once more, dear friend. _

He weighed the small satchel of warp powder in his hand, contemplating it. His twin didn’t have any, which was odd. Shouldn’t he have some? He’d be more effective if he did. Zelgius sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling awkward at the idea of seeking him out, but… they needed to work together, for Evelyn’s sake, for the sake of everyone else… for themselves. Zelgius began picking through his pack, searching for the leather bag he’d once kept spare money in. It was a bit big for what he would be putting in it, but it would serve the purpose well enough. Carefully, he poured a bit of the fine, crystalline powder into the bag. It wouldn’t take much, it required so little to transport a single person a short distance that a thimble full would last a few months if used sparingly. What he gave his twin would be sufficient for quite a while.

Resolved to be civil, Zelgius pushed his way out into the cold morning. There were many already up and about, most of them working on breaking camp. It had been decided, after Princess Laegjarn’s proposal that the rest of the army would follow slightly behind as they forged ahead to find the temple. They’d be close enough to assist in a timely fashion, but far enough behind that should Surtr find them early, they could engage and keep him away. Their best case scenario of course was that they would all make it to the temple more or less together and fortify that position. It was hardly a foolproof plan, but it was better than nothing.

Finding  _ him _ wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. He was speaking quietly to Cordelia, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He waited, knowing that whatever they were talking about was important. Cordelia smiled and nodded, throwing  _ him _ a quick salute before turning to go. He was glad she had agreed to remain behind. As helpful as she would be on his errand, they needed someone of her ability here much more.

“I have something for you,” Zelgius said, stepping closer as Cordelia moved out of earshot.

“Oh? What might that be?” His twin turned towards him, head cocked slightly to the side. Most would think this a polite gesture, but he knew better. He only ever did so when he was being sarcastic, but wanted the uninformed to think he cared what they had to say. It was a favorite for galas and luncheons. Zelgius snorted, shaking his head.

“Here. I noticed you didn’t have any, so I thought to share mine… should it come to it, this battle will be difficult, our comrades will need support.” Zelgius dropped the small bag into his open palm, which  _ he _ immediately tied to his belt. He didn’t have to explain what was in the bag, his twin knew already.

“I… appreciate this. Now… you should get breakfast. It will be a hard trip and it’s impossible to say how long it will take. Bring her back safely,”  _ he _ said.  _ He _ hesitated for a moment before crossing his arms defensively, hunching his shoulders slightly. “And don’t be foolish. She’s lost enough.”

“I should say the same to you.”

“My armor still retains a trace of the blessing. I will not be an easy target, worry about yourself,” his twin said. His tone was firm, but lacked the venom it usually had when they spoke. Zelgius nodded and gave him one last stern look before turning on his heel, the smell of meat and eggs beckoning him towards the mess tent. He would eat his fill this morning and not be shy about it. He would need his strength.

***

She stumbled forward on shaky legs, her knee aching as she climbed over a pile of rubble. She couldn’t believe that  _ this _ was where she ended up. She shouldn’t be surprised, she guessed; but she’d always thought that she was done with this part of her life. She’d worked so hard to leave it behind. She’d tried so hard to forget it. She looked down at herself, finding her clothes to be horribly out of place here. She almost expected a set of filthy tan boots and bloodstained ACUs, but she was happy to see that her robe was still with her.

She could hear gunshots in the distance, but she knew somehow that wasn’t where she needed to go. There was little she could say to anyone during a shootout, anyway. She wandered down the street, keeping her eyes on the ground as she walked. Fake though it was, she could still trip and it would still register as pain, as Charlie had shown her. She picked up the pace as she heard familiar voices ahead. She could pick out Nicholson, and Burgess. They always managed to be loud, regardless of where they were or what they were doing. If she had to guess, Harper and Martinez were nearby, and Kowalski was moments away from barking at the youngest members of his squad. That had always been the way of things.

She rounded the corner and found the five of them sitting near a crumbled wall, MREs in their laps as they chatted. Kowalski looked up and nudged Harper, who elbowed Martinez. The other two fell silent as they noticed their superiors rising to their feet, but for a tense moment, no one said anything. She scuffed the toe of her boot against the dusty street, squinting in the afternoon sun. They were the only ones around, but that was the only difference from that day.

“You look good, Sergeant,” Harper said, grinning easily at her; his thick Bostonian accent shattering the silence. “How long’s it been, anyway?”

“Three years.” Her voice was small, barely audible above the ambient noise.

“Whatcha been up to since? You still serving?” He asked, taking a seat once more. She shook her head as the rest of them settled in, looking at her expectantly.

“No, I got hurt bad enough to get discharged… but I guess y’all wouldn’t know that, huh?” It had all happened so quickly. One moment they were alive, and then they weren’t. Kowalski had been the first to go down, and she’d gotten the brunt of the mess it had made. They’d gone through basic together, they’d seen disasters and death together; she’d come to see him as family.

“I think I remember it--maybe, I dunno,” Burgess said. That would make sense. She’d been the last, she’d almost made it.  _ If I’d just been a little faster… _

“Hey, Sergeant?” She looked up, eyebrow arched inquisitively. “You know it’s not your fault, right?” Harper asked. She did, she supposed. Her guilt was a personal one, the kind that came with survival, not mistakes. She knew there was nothing she could have done to save them, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like she should have anyway; nor did it stop her from wishing she’d died instead. Burgess and Nicholson were just kids, both green and enthusiastic.  _ It wasn’t right.  _ She shrugged at length, crossing her arms over her chest. This was something she’d accepted already, so it stood to reason that there was another reason for her being here.

“I don’t lose sleep over this anymore, if that’s what you wanna know. I used to, but we move on.”

“Shit happens, people die. Ain’t that what Sergeant McMann used to say?” Kowalski asked. She nodded, meeting their gazes at last. It was exactly what he’d said. He harped on and on about it before he retired. This was why. Shit happens and people die, and it’s up to the survivors to carry on. “I’m glad you ain’t to torn up about it anymore. That makes it easy for us.”

“Do y’all know what this is all about?” She asked, her brows pinching in the middle.

“Not really.” They weren’t real. She wasn’t sure why she’d asked. They looked and acted the way she remembered because it was  _ her _ experience that brought them here, not because she was speaking to them. She shook her head slightly, a rueful smile creeping onto her face. They were here because she wanted to see them, not because they had something profound to teach her. She didn’t have time to get wistful… there was something important she had to do.

“It’s good to see y’all. I’m sorry I wasn’t better… but…”

“We know. It was good to see you, too. Get going, Sergeant. You’re almost done… just go for it.” She took a deep breath and nodded, turning away from the safety of their understanding smiles and quiet encouragement. She needed to stop being a coward.

She trotted away, turning left where the streets intersected and down an alley. She didn’t know how she knew where she needed to go, but she did. She knew that the person she had to face would be waiting for her… and that this weird, unpleasant dream would be over soon. She would be able to see everyone again and get back to work. She would see them home safely this time. 

***

The building that loomed before them was magnificent. He could scarcely believe that something so beautiful and strange had been so difficult to find, but it had take them the better part of the day to get to it; but they’d managed. The temple of Baldr was resplendent in white stone, blue glass, and gold etched runes. Its dark wooden door was emblazoned with the corona of a rising sun. He stayed out of the way as he watched princess Gunnthrá study the door, Breidablik held in her hand.

“I’m… not sure how to go about getting the door open. Breidablik won’t respond for me. I can attempt it all day and it will not lend me its power. Evelyn is the only one who can use it to open this door,” she said, her tone defeated. Zelgius felt a spark of anger, but it burned out swiftly. Anger wouldn’t help them.

“Is there another way to open it?” He asked, chewing his lip anxiously.

“I… we could attempt to use magic to overpower the wards, but… it could be dangerous to do that. I imagine Baldr would curse whoever did so, if they survived taking that much magic into themselves,” she sighed. Robin looked between the door and the wagon that currently carried Evelyn, a contemplative look on his face.

“What is it?” Zelgius asked. Robin smiled thinly, stepping towards them.

“The best solution is usually the easiest one. Just… have Evelyn open the door,” he said. Zelgius arched an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation. “She might not be able to do it on her own, but if we gave her a little help…”

“You mean to say that we should use her hand to operate Breidablik?” Zelgius asked. Robin nodded, shrugging noncommittally.

“It’s not a great plan, but it certainly can’t hurt us. It’s better than standing here gawking at the door all day.” Zelgius couldn’t argue with that. Just about anything was worth a try at this point. He made his way towards the wagon, poking his head inside.

“I beg your pardon, ladies,” he said, looking between Lissa and princess Sakura briefly before looking at Evelyn. She wasn’t looking very good, he noted. It was harder to hide just how pale and sickly she was in the light of day. Her lips were dry and chapped. She would no doubt need a good balm after all this. “We’re going to need your help with something.”

“W-what can we do… um… w-we really need to be in here with her…”

“We need  _ her _ help more specifically. We can’t open the door safely without it,” he said. Lissa’s brow crumpled.

“And how’re we gonna do that? She’s comatose, Zelgius.”

“We’re going to attempt using her hand to activate Breidablik. Our options otherwise are limited and dangerous.” He watched as the two healers looked between themselves and shrugged, preparing to leave the wagon. He lifted Evelyn carefully from her makeshift bed, cradling her gently against his chest as he made his way towards the others. Robin looked at her with a grim kind of hope. It was easy for him to understand what was going through their heads.  _ What if we’re too late _ ? Zelgius shook it off, kneeling in the center of the courtyard, carefully pulling one of her pale arms loose from her swaddling. Gunnthrá came forward and knelt beside him, carefully wrapping Evelyn’s delicate fingers around her weapon’s odd form and rested her finger over Evelyn’s as she carefully squeezed the trigger. The sound it made surprised them all, and Zelgius grit his teeth as his ears rang, but he turned his eyes hopefully towards the door, and watched in relief as the runes lit up and the door swung open. As Robin had said, the best solution was indeed the easiest. He felt the collective sigh of relief as he tucked her arm back into the blankets and rose to his feet, grateful as he felt Chrom placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Well, let’s get inside before our luck runs out,” Robin said, taking a cautious step inside. He jumped slightly as the walls and floor seemed to light up on their own volition, magic thrumming richly around them, but when nothing came of it, they all forged ahead. Zelgius kept a tight grip on Evelyn as they made their way through the entrance hall, its carvings and murals seemingly untouched by age. They seemed to be telling a story, which he would busy himself with later, perhaps if he needed something to keep his mind off things. Another set of doors led them down a long, wide hallway; off of which seemed to be dwellings of some sort. Perhaps there’d been a time when those that served most closely to Baldr had lived here. He wouldn’t turn down a hot bath if that was possible here, that much was certain. Gunnthrá trotted slightly ahead, coming to a stop at another door, much like the one at the entrance; its surface was adorned with a similar sun motif, but lacked the runes.

“This should be the innermost part of the temple. His altar will be in here, General. Baldr wasn’t one for cruel pranks, so there shouldn’t be any um…  _ security _ inside,” she said, heaving the final door open. If he hadn’t had to carry Evelyn, it would have been faster for him to open it, but… well. He couldn’t very well do both. Months on the run and her own marshal training had done her well, though; Gunnthrá was hardly bothered. Zelgius followed after her while the others hung back, exploring the temple and looking for the best strategic locations to set up camp outside. With luck, the rest of the army would arrive before nightfall.

The central chamber was deceptively large, but simple all things considered. It was dimly lit as they made their way towards the altar--a simple slab of the same white stone the temple itself was made of, beneath the watchful gaze of a carved dragon. It was an elegant looking creature, not at all like the dragons of Goldoa, who were bipedal and powerfully built. This dragon, who he assumed was meant to represent Baldr, walked on all fours with massive feathered wings. He hesitated only a moment as he placed Evelyn down on the altar, watching as Gunnthrá placed Breidablik at her head. Nothing happened, though he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, really. What did this sort of thing  _ look _ like?

“From what I read, a priestess of Baldr would normally begin performing a ritual that would help her soul find its way back, but… we have none of those. Baldr hasn’t been worshipped seriously in several lifetimes. Thankfully, as eldest princess of Nifl, I was expected to learn of such things, even if only the basics. I know the song, and which herbs to burn, at least. Outside, you’ll find cedar and juniper trees. I need cuttings from them. I will search for the other instruments I’ll need… oh… one more thing--” she placed her hand on his wrist, pulling his hand towards her, “you are the closest we have to a ‘chosen warrior,’ I will need some of your blood.”

Zelgius froze, his heart skipping.  _ His blood _ ? What good could such filth do them? Would they not be better off with someone else’s? Hers would be better, Chrom’s or Robin’s, even. His was hardly worthy of coating an enemy’s blade.

“Could you not use another’s?” He asked. What was this business about a ‘chosen warrior,’ anyway? He’d not been chosen for anything by anyone.

“No, unfortunately. While she may not have said it aloud, you are the only one for whom I’ve witnessed her using her power for. At least in spirit, you are the one she’s chosen. You should consider yourself lucky, General. The blessing of a Valkyrie is something most warriors would quite rightly kill for.”

“I’m… sorry?” He didn’t understand what she meant. Evelyn had always just been a woman to the best of his knowledge, and she’d bestowed nothing but her affection upon him; which, while certainly a blessing, was not so special that it would make him a better warrior, surely.

“We don’t have much time to explain, but I will do my best. Most Valkyries were born to the Lady Freyja and served their mother. They choose those that will live and die on the field of battle and collect the most valorous souls among them to go with them to either Valhalla, the hall of the All Father, Odin; chief among the great dragons, or Folkvangr, Freyja’s domain. But… there was one, who gave herself to Baldr and became his wife. From them, the first of the summoners was born. Her name was Eivor, and she was the first high priestess of Baldr. Every summoner from thereon inherited the soul of Eivor. Their names and faces changed, they came from many places--even different worlds, but they all shared that one commonality. In that way, Evelyn is more a god than Surtr could ever hope to be, despite his wishes,” Gunnthrá said. They gazed at the woman on the altar for a long moment, and Zelgius felt himself growing ill.

“Is all of this meant to awaken this Eivor and allow her to claim Evelyn’s body as her own?” He asked, dreading the answer.

“No. Eivor is dead. This soul is Evelyn now, you needn’t worry about that. What we  _ do  _ need to concern ourselves presently, though is gathering what we need to perform the ritual. Go and gather the bark and bough of a cedar and juniper tree. When you return, I will need to collect a sample of blood. After that, I want you to guard the door and allow no one to enter. She will be fragile and weak when she awakens, the last thing we need is to put unnecessary stress upon her.” Zelgius had no choice but to obey as she nudged him towards the door. He didn’t know what she would do with his blood, but he still didn’t like it. But… if it was necessary to save her, then he would do anything. He would cut his own throat to see her live. If a few drops of his blood would save her, then he had no choice in the matter, and he would not hesitate.

***

She ignored everything as she ran down the street. The distant sounds of gunshots weren’t real. The people firing those guns-- her unit’s infantry guards and their opponents-- were dead. Those that survived weren’t here. She ignored the faces of the things that twisted into ugly corruptions of human expressions, their teeth bared and eyes white as they lunged towards her. Running seemed to make them aggressive, but it didn’t matter.  _ They _ didn’t matter. If they grabbed her, she would escape them. She was running out of time. Her throat felt dry and tight, her chest heavy. How long had she been here?

She skidded to a stop at the mouth of a narrow alley, straightening her back as her instincts told her that she’d found what she was looking for. She cleared her throat ineffectually and wet her lips as she took a hesitant step towards the shade. Her eyes adjusted to the changing light and there, seated on an upturned bucket, was who she was  _ really _ here to see. He looked younger than he had even back then. Her stomach turned as he stood, bile rising in her throat. Standing in front of her was the eighteen year old boy from that day. He tilted his head in question, his dark eyebrows raising in a silent prod.  _ What do you have to say? _

“Uh… hey.” She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know him. They’d never spoken outside of her desperate shouts moments before she pulled the trigger. She’d killed this child. No excuses would ever be enough to justify it. Other people could comfort themselves with the knowledge that he’d had a grenade, that he’d been intending to die and take everyone else with him, but for her it was no more than that: an excuse. He was a child and she a grown woman. They were strangers in his home, a threat he didn’t know how to deal with. She hated the war that put them there, the people that instructed her to kill without hesitation, and the people that made untrue promises to him. She hated herself.

“Why do you feel guilt?” The boy asked. He crossed his lanky arms and tilted his head, dark eyes appraising.

“Because I killed you.” What kind of stupid question is that?

“I would have killed you. Would I have felt guilty?”

“How the hell should I know? Does that matter?” It didn’t matter to her, really. Different people felt different things. She didn’t hate these people or their ways. They had every reason to hate her. To them, killing her would be reasonable and forgivable.

“Maybe not, but isn’t it odd that you feel so guilty?” He asked, a confused frown on his mouth. “Were you not defending yourself?”

“I was, but… ain’t it wrong that I was there to need to in the first place?” What was the point of all this? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be trying to hurt her, or at the very least saying the cruel, but entirely true things she deserved to hear?

“Yes; but was it your choice?”

“I signed the papers. It ain’t like I didn’t know what I might have to do. I chose the work I did because I figured I was less likely to have to deal with the living if I worked with the dead.” She shrugged and tucked her hands into her pockets, studying the boy in front of her. He had a pleasant face and a thick shock of black hair. He would have probably been handsome if he lived long enough to grow up.

“Then why bother feeling guilty? If you knew, then guilt is wasted energy.”

“It ain’t if I learn from it,” she snapped.

“But you haven’t. You let it control you instead. You fear loss and have allowed your grief and guilt to decide things for you. That is why you are stuck where you are, and why you are so afraid when the people you love hurt you. All you’ve learned from it is that the world is cruel and that you have no control.” Evelyn blinked, momentarily stupefied by what he’d said.

Her shoulders drooped as she realized that he was right. She had allowed herself to be paralyzed by guilt and grief. She’d let those feelings convince her that she didn’t deserve anything better. She’d spent so long trying to rationalize her feelings that she’d simply become stuck in them. Her therapist had said something similar, but she wasn’t ready to hear it or change it at the time. She was too busy feeling sorry for herself. No… that’s not quite right. She was too compromised to deal with yet more change. Unhealthy and painful though it all had been, at least it had been stable. She’d been able to lick her wounds and put herself back together, at least a little bit. She didn’t have to be alone anymore.

“You’re right… I’m sorry.”

“You still feel guilt.” He sounded surprised, but things like that didn’t just go away.

“I always will. Killing is inherently wrong, and you were just a kid.”

“I was old enough to know what I was doing, and I too made a choice, just as you did when you were my age.” She knew this, of course. There was nothing she could do. She couldn’t take back a bullet, and as much as she hated it, it had been down to his life or hers. She’d chosen her own, and that ensured that fewer people died. She was disgusted by herself when she looked at it that way, but that was the reality of the thing, wasn’t it? He wasn’t a child, he was a young man that tried to kill her and everyone around her. Wrong or right didn’t matter at the time, only survival had. Her crushing guilt was hypocritical and; as he said, a waste of energy. She’d survived, so the best thing she could do for him was live the life she had. Anything else was an insult.

Evelyn sighed and shook her head, a sense of peace crashing over her. She knew that she had a long way to go, but… acceptance of her past and the things she’d done was a start, right? She could accept that her conflicting feelings were normal. She didn’t have to get over it immediately, and maybe she never really would; but the least she could do was move forward and stop letting the worst parts of herself be all she acknowledged. She looked up to speak to him, but was faced instead with that slimy, black mass that had been following her throughout her trip. She watched in disgust and fascination as it shifted and solidified, forming itself into a mirror image of herself. It watched her silently, eyes impassive.

She fidgeted slightly under its stare, trying to remain calm as she came to understand that she was being judged. She wasn’t sure what would happen if it decided that she’d failed Baldr’s little test, but she had a feeling it wasn’t anything good. She chewed her lip and shifted from foot to foot, watching as a smile spread over her doppleganger’s face.

“Good job.” Its voice was heavy, scratchy, and far too deep to be her own, but she supposed whatever this thing was wasn’t actually trying to convince anyone of authenticity. Not anymore, at least. “Follow me.”

She did as she was told. She was ready to run if she had to, but she didn’t think she would. Even if she did, where would she go? Could she just… will herself to Baldr? Probably not. This world operated in a bizarre way. Oh her own desires manipulated it, but it didn’t always listen to her. It was more like a monkey’s paw than anything. They stopped in front of a simple, normal looking wooden door. The thing stepped aside and turned to look at her, its movements too slow and deliberate to be human, its footsteps too heavy.

“Through here,” it said.

“What’s in there?” She asked. It smiled, lips curling back over its teeth. Evelyn shuddered as she realized that they were long and sharp rather than blunt like her own. As if she needed any other reminders that this thing wasn’t even close to human.

“Baldr is waiting. Go.” Evelyn edged around it, keeping her eyes solidly on its face, her thumb on the flashlight’s switch. She didn’t like this thing. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing the door on her doppleganger and its creepy, needle filled grin. She turned and found herself in a very comfortable, familiar room. It was her room at Order’s base. It smelled good. Like…  _ oh _ . Baldr was still wearing his Zelgius costume, it seemed.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t make it at first. You did well, my dear.”

“Thanks, I guess. S’there a reason you’re still looking like that? I already know you ain’t him.” She could remember everything clearly now. She was angry with Zelgius. Angry that he’d lashed out at her, angry that he was so rough with her, angry that he played on her insecurities to get her to leave him alone. They would address it later. They’d have to, because she needed to at least be able to work with him.

“My true form would damage your mind. Your kind aren’t equipped to handle it. You can’t comprehend us,” he took a breath and tilted his head, a gentle smile curving his lips, ‘not yet, at least.’

“I’ve seen dragons before. What’s so special about you?” She asked. Baldr chuckled, the sound rich and warm, because he did it with Zelgius’ voice. Angry with him though she was, she still loved that sound. She hoped she would hear it again soon, after things settled back down and they talked about everything.

“Those others are creatures of the mortal worlds. We are not. They were born, we just are.” So gods, then. So because seeing him as he actually was would break her mind, he decided taking on the appearance of a man she loved and desired would be better.  _ Awkward _ .

“ _ Okay _ … so now that I’m here and we’re talking… can we get down to business? I want to get out of here as soon as I can.” Baldr held up his hand, his smile fading slightly.

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to leave just yet. Not until the ritual begins, at least. Your comrades made it to my temple. You’ll know when you can go.” Evelyn groaned and took a seat on the bed, crossing her legs. “How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty. Tired. A little annoyed. Why?”

“Now that you’ve made it here, stress on your physical body will be lessened, but… well. If you can tell you’re thirsty, that’s concerning. You’ve probably been unconscious for a few days at least by this point.” She felt herself go cold. Days? She’d been laying around uselessly for days?

“Should I not be aware of my physical body at all?” She remembered  _ knowing _ Zelgius was there. Had that been a cause for concern?

“No, not usually. You may have moments of lucidity now that you’re here with me, which could help those on the other side, but you probably won’t notice them.”

“And if I do?” She asked. Baldr shrugged.

“It probably just means that whatever you notice is important enough  _ to _ be noticed, such as feeling thirsty. It’s nothing to be concerned over, really. It’s not as though you can do anything about it, at least,” he said.

“And if my body dies now that I’m here?”

“The rules still apply. You will remain here at this crossroads. It’s best if you don’t do that,” Baldr quipped. Evelyn took a deep breath and tried to ignore the panic building within her. Who would have--

“Loki did this, didn’t she?”

“Yes. I’m surprised you only just now considered it; though I suppose you  _ have _ been busy. She is… an odd one.” Evelyn snorted and shook her head. That was putting it mildly. “You’ll want to deal with her when you can. She isn’t your enemy, but she isn’t your friend either. She is the one who fans the flames. Get rid of her, and Surtr is easy. His ward will shatter soon. You probably feel this, too. You will then be able to douse the flames and put Múspell back to sleep.”

“That’s Gunnthrá’s plan, ain’t it? Perform the Rite of Frost and overpower Surtr?”

“Yes… though to do so… well. I’m sure you can imagine that such power isn’t free,” Baldr said.

“She’s going to die.” Power always does have a price… where did that leave her? As though reading her thoughts, Baldr smiled warmly, the expression putting her more at ease in spite of herself.

“You needn’t worry. What we share is not the same, my dear. I am not going to share  _ my _ power with you. You went through all this to awaken your own. I am simply a guide.”

“Why didn’t the others do it that way, too?” Evelyn asked, studying her hands as they rested in her lap.

“The others are less concerned with the plight of your kind. They feel that they are not responsible for you, and if you come to them for power, you must pay for it. I no longer agree with them. I began to see how we affected the realms and sought to rectify it. But… well. Loki felt that I was going to make  _ her _ life less interesting.”

“Wait… Loki is the one who killed you?  _ How _ ?”

“Mistletoe. My “mother” deemed it too insignificant to do me harm, and so she didn’t bother to ensure it didn’t. Loki thought it would be funny. Looking back… no. It still isn’t.”

“So because it killed you, it’s dangerous to me? How does that work?”

“You are… my kin. We are connected by more than happenstance, my dear. We are connected by blood. You are the tenth inheritor of the soul of Eivor, my daughter, chief among my priestesses, and a member of the Valkyrie.” Evelyn blinked slowly, trying to process the information.

“I don’t… I’m sorry. I don’t understand. What do you  _ mean _ by that?” She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Just what I said. You are, more or less, Eivor reborn. Surely you’ve noticed that you have some… unique abilities. You just  _ know _ things, yes?” She nodded, watching his face carefully. “You know those things because you are a Valkyrie. Without realizing it, you’ve been choosing who would live and who would die since before you came here.”

“Then why didn’t I manage to save everyone, then? If I’m  _ choosing _ , why did I fuck up so badly that day?” she snapped. Baldr barely seemed to notice her outburst, merely gazing serenely back at her.

“Because you didn’t realize that you were. You didn’t know that you  _ could _ . You prioritized the lives of many over the few. You were thinking as mortals do without realizing that you didn’t have to.” Baldr shrugged, his smile returning. “It’s simply the way it is before you awaken to your power. Take comfort in knowing that you won’t have to do that anymore.”

“I can’t think like anything other than a mortal, you know? I am what I am.” She didn’t buy it. She didn’t buy it for even a moment. She’d been aware of her own mortality since childhood. She’d made her peace with it. What was this old lizard implying?

“What you  _ are _ is a Valkyrie. Valkyrie are not the same as humans or other mortal creatures. You will remain as you are: young and beautiful, for half again as long as a normal human. I believe the eldest was 160 when she died.”

Her head ached. This was ridiculous. The last thing she wanted was to outlive everyone she’d ever loved. What a terrible, painful thing to experience. She wasn’t sure how Tiki and Nowi stood it.

“Is this man the hero you’ve chosen?”

“What do you mean?” It was a loaded question with a few different meanings. She felt wary.

“All summoners become bound to a particular hero. I know precious little of the world outside, all I know I see through you. He… means quite a great deal to you. I simply wish to know if he is the one you’ve chosen to act as your champion.” She’d never thought of Zelgius in that way. He was a man, and she loved him. She trusted him to do his best and knew that he was strong-- strong enough that he could potentially best Surtr if given a chance.

“I haven’t given it any thought. I wasn’t aware that was something we did.”

“Perhaps you have without noticing. Even from what little I know, I realize that you are stronger together. You started to awaken your own abilities because you longed to protect him,” he said. Evelyn laughed bitterly, rolling onto her side to look at Baldr.

“Because I love him. I don’t see him like that… I want to protect him because he’s special to me.”

“As it should be. Those bonds are stronger when they are forged in love.” She wanted to change the subject. Talking about Zelgius and love just reminded her of what had happened between them. She knew he felt guilty. He wouldn’t be at her side if he didn’t. That was a good sign.

“You needn’t worry if you choose him. His life is tied to yours. He will not have to leave you before you’re ready. Your daughters, should you have them, will also inherit a measure of your power.”

“I uh… think that’s something me and him should talk about… we ain’t even… you know…” she waved a hand dismissively, her face burning, “anyway. That aside, what do you mean by all that?”

“Just what I said. His life is linked to yours. As long as you live, so too will he.”

“So me and whoever I choose,  _ if _ I were to choose anyone, would just… be a pair of old, senile fools together until I die?”

“Senility is not a given; aging is, but you won’t notice it for a time.” Baldr shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Consider it a perk of your demigodhood. You’ll look quite good for your age.”

Evelyn sighed and closed her eyes, burying her face in the pillow. All of this was nonsense. She’d spent most of her life denying the existence of gods, and now, here she was being told she may as well be one herself. It was so irritating, but she was too tired and emotionally drained to fully comprehend just what that meant for the moment. She would come to terms with it all later, once she was out of death’s waiting room. For now, maybe she would rest.

***

She woke to the sound of drumming. It was distant at first, but grew louder steadily. She rubbed her eyes and forced herself to sit up, glancing around the room. Baldr was still sitting in his chair, gazing at her seriously.

“What is that noise?” She asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“Your cue to go.” He stood and came near, extending his hand to her. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet, smiling gently as he pulled her against him. She almost pulled away, but stopped herself. “Think hard. What do you want most? Do you wish to be a sword, or a shield?”

She wanted to protect. She was tired of losing people. She was tired of feeling the guilt death brought her, and she was tired of grief. She would be a shield for the people she loved. She would be better.

“Good.” She flinched as he pressed his thumb to her forehead, but simply watched him as he watched her. “It was good to meet you, my dear. Don’t be afraid. You have all the strength you need, you need only put it to use. Go now, and be well.” He turned her towards the door and gave her a gentle push, though he didn’t really need to; it was easy for her to tell what she was meant to do, thanks to the bright light pouring in through the narrow gaps around the door. She didn’t hesitate as she opened the door, all too eager to leave this strange place and its vague occupants behind. She had better things to do than sit around and talk with a dead god, after all.

The light was blinding, but didn’t last long. It flared and then died, and suddenly she felt cold stone beneath her. Her whole body ached, she was devastatingly thirsty, and her eyes felt glued shut, but after a few experimental blinks, she realized she could keep them open. It smelled strongly of evergreen and the room was mostly silent now, but she could sense someone nearby. She turned her head and was unsurprised to find a smiling, nearly tearful Gunnthrá kneeling on the floor.

“Welcome back, dear.”


End file.
